"All the beautiful sentiments in the world weigh less than a single lovely action."
— James Russell Lowell

"Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt."
— Kurt Vonnegut (Slaughterhouse-Five)

"The world is not perfect and neither am I; I live with a margin of error."
— Steven Toushin

"Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell leads up to light."
— John Milton

"'Never love a wild thing, Mr. Bell,' Holly advised him. 'That was Doc's mistake. He was always lugging home wild things. A hawk with a hurt wing. One time it was a full-grown bobcat with a broken leg. But you can't give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they're strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That's how you'll end up, Mr. Bell. If you let yourself love a wild thing. You'll end up looking at the sky.'"
— Truman Capote (Breakfast at Tiffany's: A Short Novel and Three Stories)

"Fiction is the truth inside the lie."
— Truman Capote

"More tears are shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones."
— Truman Capote (Answered Prayers: The Unfinished Novel)

"There are certain shades of limelight that can wreck a girl's complexion."
— Truman Capote

"Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor."
— Truman Capote

"Young men think old men are fools; but old men know young men are fools."
— Truman Capote

"Never love a wild thing... you can't give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they're strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That's how you'll end up... If you let yourself love a wild thing. You'll end up looking at the sky."
— Truman Capote (Breakfast at Tiffany's: A Short Novel and Three Stories)

"'You cold or something?' he said. She strained against him; she wanted to pass clear through him: 'It's a chill, it's nothing'; and then, pushing a little away: 'Say you love me.'

'I said it.'

'No, oh no. You haven't. I was listening. And you never do.'

'Well, give me time.'

'Please.'

He sat up and glanced at a clock across the room. It was after five. Then decisively he pulled off his windbreaker and began to unlace his shoes.

'Aren't you going to, Clyde?'

He grinned back at her. 'Yeah, I'm going to.'

'I don't mean that; and what's more, I don't like it: you sound as though you were talking to a whore.'

'Come off it, honey. You didn't drag me up here to tell you about love.'

'You disgust me,' she said.

'Listen to her! She's sore!'

A silence followed that circulated like an aggrieved bird. Clyde said, 'You want to hit me, huh? I kind of like you when you're sore: that's the kind of girl you are,' which made Grady light in his arms when he lifted and kissed her. 'You still want me to say it?' Her head slumped on his shoulder. 'Because I will,' he said, fooling his fingers in her hair. 'Take off your clothes--and I'll tell it to you good.'"
— Truman Capote (Summer Crossing: A Novel)

"It may be normal, darling; but I'd rather be natural."
— Truman Capote (Breakfast at Tiffany's)