She had never dreamed there could be so much pain in a life when there was nothing physically wrong. She hurt all the time.How much of it was her fault? That question haunted her.

What the fuck, a man can't help his nature.

Kill him, you must kill him Jacky, and her, too. Because a real artist must suffer. Because each man kills the thing he loves.

Shelley Duvall as Wendy is really one of the most misogynistic characters ever put on film, she’s basically just there to scream and be stupid and that’s not the woman that I wrote about.

Love came out of them the way love had come out of the boy and girl walking up the street and holding hands.

Yet he could not equate these simple symbols with the shifting complex reality of his mother; she satisfied his childish definition of eternity. She had been when he was not. She would continue to be when he was not again.