“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.”
“You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing, and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage--well, baby you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the West by Tulip, Texas, or on the East by Somaliland--it’s wherever you go, because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.”
“It calms me down right away, the quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there, not with those kind men in their nice suits, and that lovely smell of silver and alligator wallets. If I could find a real-life place that made me feel like Tiffany’s, then I’d buy some furniture and give the cat a name.”
“‘Darling,’ she instructed me, ‘would you reach in the drawer there and give me my purse. A girl doesn’t read this sort of thing without her lipstick.‘”
“You’re wrong. She is a phony. But on the other hand you’re right. She isn’t a phony because she’s a real phony. She believes all this crap she believes. You can’t talk her out of it.”