Quote

all his prayers of the past had been simple concrete requests: God, give me a bicycle, a knife with seven blades, a box of oil paints. Only how, how, could you say something so indefinite, so meaningless as this: God, let me be loved.

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
Give
Oil
Blades
Giving
Boxes
Request
Something
Paint
Bicycle
Seven
Knife
Loved
Knives
Prayer
Prayers
Indefinite
Simple
Concrete
Requests
Past
Meaningless
Paints

More quotes by Truman Capote

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You don't run out on people you run out on yourself.
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Most contemporary novelists, especially the American and the French, are too subjective, mesmerized by private demons theyre enraptured by their navels and confined by a view that ends with their own toes.
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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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The good thing about masturbation is that you don't have to get dressed up for it.
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...of all things this was the saddest, that life goes on: if one leaves one's lover, life should stop for him, and if one disappears from the world, then the world should stop, too: and it never did. And that was the real reason for most people getting up in the morning: not because it would matter but because it wouldn't.
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I don't care what anybody says about me as long as it isn't true.
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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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You can't blame a writer for what the characters say.
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I'll never get used to anything. Anybody that does they might as well be dead.
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But he does look stupid.' Yearning. Not stupid. He wants awfully to be on the inside staring out: anybody with their nose pressed against a glass is liable to look stupid.
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Brazil was beastly but Buenos Aires the best. Not Tiffany's, but almost.
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It's bad enough in life to do without something YOU want but confound it, what gets my goat is not being able to give somebody something you want THEM to have.
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A man who doesn't dream is like a man who doesn't sweat. He stores up a lot of poison.
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When I am writing, I try to do it five hours a day but I spend about two of those just fooling around.
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When God hands you a gift, he also hands you a whip and the whip is intended for self-flagellation solely.
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I prefer to underwrite. Simple, clear as a country creek.
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A conversation is a dialogue, not a monologue. That's why there are so few good conversations: due to scarcity, two intelligent talkers seldom meet.
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Here is a hall without exit, a tunnel without end.
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We all, sometimes, leave each other there under the skies, and we never understand why.
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Talent is a valued tormentor.
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