I don't want to know movie directors. I don't want to be close to them. I don't want to interfere with their work. I don't want them to interfere with mine.
Patricia HighsmithHe loved possessions, not masses of them, but a select few that he did not part with.They gave a man self-respect. Not ostentation but quality, and the love that cherished the quality. Possessions reminded him that he existed, and made him enjoy his existence. It was as simple as that. And wasn' t that worth something? He existed.
Patricia HighsmithAnd no book, and possibly no painting, when it is finished, is ever exactly like the first dream of it.
Patricia HighsmithWhat was it to love someone, what was love exactly, and why did it end or not end? Those were the real questions, and who could answer them?
Patricia HighsmithJanuary. It was all things. And it was one thing, like a solid door. Its cold sealed the city in a gray capsule. January was moments, and January was a year. January rained the moments down, and froze them in her memory: [...]Every human action seemed to yield a magic. January was a two-faced month, jangling like jester's bells, crackling like snow crust, pure as any beginning, grim as an old man, mysteriously familiar yet unknown, like a word one can almost but not quite define.
Patricia Highsmith