A sociable smile is nothing but a mouth full of teeth.

Dean's California--wild, sweaty, important, the land of lonely and exiled and eccentric lovers come to forgather like birds, and the land where everybody somehow looked like broken-down, handsome, decadent movie actors.

I'll go to the south of Sicily in the winter, and paint memories of Arles – I'll buy a piano and Mozart me that – I'll write long sad tales about people in the legend of my life – This part is my part of the movie, let's hear yours

Suppose we suddenly wake up and see that what we thought to be this and that, ain't this and that at all?

Writing at least is a silent meditation even though you’re going a hundred miles an hour.

I want a blaze of light to flame in me forever in a timeless, dear love of everything. And why should I pretend to want anything else?

It all ends in tears anyway.