Inside every believe, there's a lie. Tiffanie DeBartolo More Quotes by Tiffanie DeBartolo More Quotes From Tiffanie DeBartolo For the record, if I were Superman, a pale, scrawny guy holding a guitar would be Kryptonite. Tiffanie DeBartolo kryptonite guitar guy I need to know that wherever I end up, in the stars or in the gutter, you’re along for the ride. Tiffanie DeBartolo gutters stars needs That's why you have to save the dying man. Because you want him around to keep saving you. Tiffanie DeBartolo saving dying men I would have remembered the good stuff. Nobody ever remembers the good stuff. Tiffanie DeBartolo remembered stuff remember We grew apart. The thing is, we loved each other, and on some level we always will, but when you’re twenty-three and you fall in love, you tend to think that love will supercede any problems. Realizing that no matter how much you love somebody, no matter how desperately you want a relationship to work, life can act as an oxidizer and corrode it to pieces. Tiffanie DeBartolo falling-in-love love-you thinking I am of the theory that all of our transcendental connections, anything we're drawn to, be it a person, a song, a painting on a wall--they're magnetic. The art is the alloy, so to speak. And our souls are equipped with whatever properties are required to attract that alloy. I'm no scientist so I don't really know what the hell these properties are, but my point is we're drawn to stuff we've already got a connection to. Part of the thing is already inside of us. Tiffanie DeBartolo wall song art I didn’t write that song to try and win you over, or to steal you away from him. I wrote it because I knew I never could. Tiffanie DeBartolo winning writing song I was looking for someplace to store all the things I was feeling - the friction, the contradictions, the unmerciful truth - but my heart, my soul, my eyes and ears and even my toes were locking their doors. They wouldn't let me in. For safety reasons. I had no choice but to throw the feelings away. Tiffanie DeBartolo eye heart doors The phrase what I want struck me. It contains so much entitlement, so many complications, but encompasses only what a person doesn't have. Tiffanie DeBartolo entitlement phrases want I'm almost thirty and my day job is folding shirts at the Gap. Have you seen my room? I'm not messy. I'm rebelling against folding. Tiffanie DeBartolo gaps jobs rooms I took a closer look. Jesus had piercing blue eyes, dark hair that hung in a flawless mess, his body was emaciated and taut, his hands and feet dripped with blood, and nothing but a gauzy loincloth hid what looked like a nice package underneath. “Sexy,” I said. “He looks like a rock star. Tiffanie DeBartolo sexy stars jesus I'd never seen that look on another face before, had never identified it in another person. I'd only met with it in fiction. But everyone falls in love with Holden Caulfield when they're sixteen. They read Catcher in the Rye and don't feel so alone. Tiffanie DeBartolo falling-in-love looks fiction Don't swear off all the fruits just because you ate one bad apple. Tiffanie DeBartolo bad-apple fruit apples Forget the noose. Forget the Iron Maiden. Forget the electric chair or the guillotine. The mind was mankind's most painful torture chamber, the blessed liberty to cogitate offering either doom or salvation, depending on one's disposition. Tiffanie DeBartolo iron offering blessed The concept of time, as it’s commonly understood by normal people with normal jobs and normal goddamn lives, doesn’t exist on the road. The nights spread out like the dark, godforsaken highways that distinguish them, and the days run together like Thanksgiving dinner smothered in gravy. You never really know where you are or what time it is, and the outside world starts to fade away. It’s cool. Tiffanie DeBartolo dark running jobs