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With dogs, you don't need gurus. Dogs are forever in the moment. They are always a tidal wave of feelings, and every feeling is some variant of love.

Cynthia Heimel

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Cynthia Heimel
Age: 70 †
Born: 1947
Born: July 13
Died: 2018
Died: February 25
Novelist
Writer
Philadelphia
Pennsylvania
Love
Forever
Gurus
Moment
Variant
Feelings
Tidal
Moments
Guru
Need
Dogs
Needs
Wave
Every
Dog
Always
Feeling

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This is New York, a combat zone, and everyone has to have an angle or they're not allowed over the bridges or through the tunnels. Let them have their angles, it's what they live for. You've got better things to worry about, like making sure the people that actually matter don't try any funny stuff.
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it is a shoe designer's job to be a year ahead of our collective unconscious.
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We have to have faith in ourselves. I have never met a woman who, deep down in her core, really believes she has great legs. And if she suspects that she might have great legs, then she's convinced that she has a shrill voice and no neck.
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Reading is an escape, an education, a delving into the brain of another human being on such an intimate level that every nuance of thought, every snapping of synapse, every slippery desire of the author is laid open before you like, well, a book.
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The country is suffering from musical-chairs syndrome. We all dance around for a bit and then when we try to sit down again, somebody doesn't have a chair. We're running scared we want ours.
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You can't take away knowledge, and it's dangerous to pretend you never had it.
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we know that our world is corrupt and diseased but we're tired of being cynical and feeling helpless. What the hell, tilt at a windmill.
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The Pain-Free Shopping Method: Buy a present for you, then a present for a friend. Then another present for you. Then a present for a friend. Then two presents for you. Then a present for a friend. Then go home, get into bed, and pull up the covers.
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success in L.A. is completely arbitrary. One day you're the brilliant genius of life, the next day people act like there's a bad smell when you approach. Lots of expensive, late-model cars are offered in the L.A. Times every day by people who have suddenly begun to smell bad. The stakes are just too high for human dignity.
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When women are excited about a date, they go immediately on a diet, because all women know they are hideously obese.
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Friends are the twenty-first-century version of extended families.
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In New York we have streets exploding and innocent Buddhist girls being stabbed in the neck and cabdrivers refusing to help her. If we happen into a nightclub by mistake, when we leave the doorman will be lying in the street surrounded by police.
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Lots of you know me as a lone, hard-bitten columnist, prone to lurking on deserted rocky promontories while searching for my muse.
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A comedian is not funny unless he is taking his demons out for a walk.
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The buying of a self-help book is the most desperate of all human acts. It means you've lost your mind completely: You've entrusted your mental health to a self-aggrandizing twit with a psychology degree and a yen for a yacht.
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Dogs are us, only innocent.
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Swingers are all from the suburbs and consequently brain-addled by car pools, shopping malls, and welcome wagons.
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Women are not ladies. The term connotates females who are simultaneously put on a pedestal and patronized.
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Contrary to popular cable TV-induced opinion, aerobics have nothing to do with squeezing our body into hideous shiny Spandex, grinning like a deranged orangutan, and doing cretinous steps to debauched disco music.
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Infidelity is such a pretty word, so light and delicate. Whereas the act itself is dark and thick with guilt, betrayal, confusion, pain, and (okay) sometimes enormous pleasure.
Cynthia Heimel