Let's take everything just as it is.

There is such an animal as a nonstylist, only they're not writers - they're typists.

But we are alone, darling child, terribly, isolated each from the other; so fierce is the world's ridicule we cannot speak or show our tenderness; for us, death is stronger than life, it pulls like a wind through the dark, all our cries burlesqued in joyless laughter; and with the garbage of loneliness stuffed down us until our guts burst bleeding green, we go screaming round the world, dying in our rented rooms, nightmare hotels, eternal homes of the transient heart.

I want to still be me when I wake up one fine morning and have breakfast at Tiffany´s.

There's lots of things you don't know. All kinds of strange things . . . mostly they happened before we were born: that makes them seem to me so much more real.

I thought that Mr. Clutter was a very nice gentleman. I thought so right up to the moment that I cut his throat.

It’s better to look at the sky than live there