Explore Quotes by Bret Easton Ellis

...if you're alone nothing bad can happen to you.

Rock 'n' roll. Deal with it.

I feel I'm moving toward as well as away from something, and anything is possible.

When the going gets tough, the tough go drinking.

The seeds of love have taken hold and if we won't burn together, I'll burn alone.

The Smiths are singing and someone says "Turn that gay angst music off.

You do not write a novel for praise, or thinking of your audience. You write for yourself; you work out between you and your pen the things that intrigue you

Baby, when you were young and your heart was an open book, you used to say live and let live. You know you did, you know you did, you know you did.

'Do you know what Ed Gein said about women?' [...] '"When I see a pretty girl walking down the street I think two things. One part of me wants to take her out and talk to her and be real nice and sweet and treat her right."' I stop finish my J&B in one swallow. 'What does the other part of him think?' Hamlin asks tentatively. 'What her head would look like on a stick...'

The images I had were of people being driven mad by living in the city. Images of parents who were so hungry and unfulfilled that they ate their own children.

... her taste in music haunted my memory and I had to stop at Tower Records on the Upper West Side to buy ninety dollars' worth of rap CDs but, as expected, I'm at a loss: [...] voices uttering ugly words like digit, pudding, chunk.

And as things fell apart, nobody paid much attention

The seals stupidly dive off rocks into swirling black water, barking mindlessly. The zookeepers feed them dead fish. A crowd gathers around the tank, mostly adults, a few accompanied by children. On the seals' tank a plaque warns: COINS CAN KILL——IF SWALLOWED, COINS CAN LODGE IN AN ANIMAL'S STOMACH AND CAUSE ULCERS, INFECTIONS AND DEATH. DO NOT THROW COINS IN THE POOL. So what do I do? Toss a handful of change into the tank when none of the zookeepers are watching. It's not the seals I hate——it's the audience's enjoyment of them that bothers me.

I felt lethal, on the verge of frenzy. My nightly bloodlust overflowed into my days and I had to leave the city. My mask of sanity was a victim of impending slippage. This was the bone season for me and I needed a vacation.

I've been accused of being very vain about my apathy.

After a while you learn that everything stops.

We buy balloons, we let them go.

Women aren't very bright," Rip says. "Studies have been done.

Disappear Here. The syringe fills with blood. You're a beautiful boy and that's all that matters. Wonder if he's for sale. People are afraid to merge. To merge.

My pain is constant and sharp...this confession has meant nothing

I like the idea of a writer being haunted by his own creation, especially if the writer resents the way the character defines him.