583 Quotes by Truman Capote

it's a well-known photograph. This was 1984, just three months before he died.

I never cared for his writings one whit. Boring ... boring.

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.

New York is the only real city-city.

In my garden, after a rainfall, you can faintly, yes, hear the breaking of new blooms.

The wind is us-- it gathers and remembers all our voices, then sends them talking and telling through the leaves and the fields.

I also write the last paragraph or page of a story first. That way I always know what I'm working towards.

I guess if you're that thin and that small you don't need to take up too much space or breathe that much air. You just keep on going.

Anyone who ever gave you confidence, you owe them a lot.