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I think depression creates in me an urgent need to write, but I also believe that daily stress, and even the positive stress of intense happiness, can compel me to express myself through the written word.
Francesca Lia Block
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Francesca Lia Block
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: January 3
Editor
Novelist
Poet
Writer
LA
California
Need
Express
Needs
Daily
Compel
Writing
Positive
Urgent
Even
Written
Depression
Believe
Word
Think
Happiness
Creates
Thinking
Write
Intense
Also
Stress
More quotes by Francesca Lia Block
Our eyelashes brushed like they would weave together by themselves, turning us into one wild thing. I say, “I think I missed you before I met you even.
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I wanted to die, then. I wanted to destroy the body I was trapped in, become what she was, no matter what it took. No matter how much mutilation or pain. But he looked away, at me. He pulled my face down and pressed my lips against his like he was almost trying to suffocate us both.
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You were just a boy on a bed in a room, like a kaleidoscope is a tube full of bits of broken glass. But the way I saw you was pieces refracting the light, shifting into an infinite universe of flowers and rainbows and insects and planets, magical dividing cells, pictures no one else knew.
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I dont know about happily ever after... but I know about happily, Weetzie Bat thought.
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You make me feel like I have wings when you touch me.
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I'll be inside the one who holds you. And then I won't be.
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If death is your lover, you don't got to be afraid ever that he will ever leave you
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I will not eat cakes or cookies or food. I will be thin, thin, pure. I will be pure and empty. Weight dropping off. Ninety-nine... ninety-five... ninety-two... ninety. Just one more to eighty-nine. Where does it go? Where in the universe does it go?
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Every girl is a goddess.
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You can't doubt so much, Psyche
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Maybe her own tears were the poison that made her grow.
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Once upon a time . . . What time are we upon and where do I belong?
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We no longer believe in fairy tales. But we will learn to believe in monsters
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The true warrior isn't immune to fear. She fights in spite of it.
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Pianos, unlike people, sing when you give them your every growl. They know how to dive into the pit of your stomach and harmonize with your roars when you’ve split yourself open. And when they see you, guts shining, brain pulsing, heart right there exposed in a rhythm that beats need need, need need, need need, pianos do not run. And so she plays.
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What sexual preference do you hope she has?” “Happiness.” Isnt that cool?
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Everything was fine, but Weetzie wanted a baby. “How could you want one?” My Secret Agent Lover Man said. “There are way too many babies. And diseases. And nuclear accidents. And crazy psychos. We cant have a baby,” he said.
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At least the girls in stories were alive before they died.
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Everything is an illusion that is the whole thing about it - illusion, immitation, a mirage. It makes me too sad. Its having like a good dream, you know you are going to wake up.
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Pain can give you sight or make you blind.
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