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Those fellows, they're always crying over killers. Never a thought for the victims.
Truman Capote
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Truman Capote
Age: 59 †
Born: 1924
Born: September 30
Died: 1984
Died: August 25
Actor
Artist
Author
Autobiographer
Journalist
Novelist
Playwright
Screenwriter
Writer
New Orleans
Louisiana
Truman Streckfus Persons
Truman Garcia Capote
Crying
Fellows
Victim
Cry
Thought
Always
Never
Killers
Victims
More quotes by Truman Capote
My yardstick is how somebody treats me.
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Of many magics, one is watching a beloved sleep: free of eyes and awareness, you for a sweet moment hold the heart of him helpless, he is then all, and however irrationally, you have trusted him to be, man-pure, child-tender.
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would you reach in the drawer there and give me my purse. A girl doesn't read this sort of thing without her lipstick.
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The enemy was anyone who was someone he wanted to be or who had anything he wanted to have.
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You can’t give your heart to a wild thing.
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We all, sometimes, leave each other there under the skies, and we never understand why.
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In California everyone goes to a therapist, is a therapist, or is a therapist going to a therapist.
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That isn't writing at all, it's typing.
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Most secrets should never be told, but especially those that are more menacing to the listener than to the teller.
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It's redundant to die in Los Angeles.
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Love should be allowed. I’m all for it. Now that I’ve got a pretty good idea what it is.
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Shoot, boy, the country's just fulla folks what knows everything, and don't understand nothing, just fullofem.
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Life is difficult enough without Meryl Streep movies.
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Then why does Kenneth Anger wear a picture locket on a chain around his neck? On one side of the locket there is a picture of you on the other there is an image of a frog with an inscription: Bobby Beausoleil changed into a frog by Kenneth Anger. A voodoo amulet, so to say.
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Reading dreams. That's what started her walking down the road. Every day she'd walk a little further: a mile, and come home. Two miles, and come home. One day she just kept on.
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First, a gorgeous breakfast: just everything you can imagine from flapjacks and fried squirrel to hominy grits and honey in the comb...we're so impatient to get at the presents we can't eat a mouthful.
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It was the most haunting room I've ever seen. Because you know what's in it? All the leftovers, all the paraphernalia that the different condemned men had had with them in the holding cells.
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One day, I started writing, not knowing that I had chained myself for life to a noble but merciless master. When God hands you a gift, he also hands you a whip and the whip is intended solely for self-flagellation... I'm here alone in my dark madness, all by myself with my deck of cards - and, of course, the whip God gave me.
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Jay Sebring cut my hair a couple of times.
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June, July, all through the warm months she hibernated like a winter animal who did not know spring had come and gone.
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