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It seemed that moment would last forever. That you had to risk your life to get love. You had to get right to the edge of death to ever be saved.
“Art never comes from happiness.”
How torture is torture and humiliation is humiliation only when you choose to suffer.
The magic of sex is it’s acquisition without the burden of possessions. No matter how many women you take home, there’s never a storage problem.
You gain power by pretending to be weak. By contrast, you make people feel so strong. You save people by letting them save you.
People really need somebody they feel superior to.
People will jump through hoops if you just make them feel like a god.
There’s an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It’s when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger. Nothing is ever familiar.
It’s funny how you never think about the women you’ve had. It’s always the ones who get away that you can’t forget.
“I want you to know more than just what people think is safe to tell you,” she said.
It’s funny how the beauty of art has so much more to do with the frame than with the artwork itself.
“Every woman is just a different kind of problem.”
I mean, a male chauvinist pig isn’t born, he’s made, and more and more of them are being made by women. After long enough, you just roll over and accept the fact that you’re a sexist, bigoted, insensitive, crude, cretinist cretin.

