I want to still be me when I wake up one fine morning and have breakfast at Tiffany´s.
No one will ever know what 'In Cold Blood' took out of me. It scraped me right down to the marrow of my bones. It nearly killed me. I think, in a way, it did kill me.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote reflects the deep emotional and physical toll that artistic creation can impose on an artist.
In this quote, Truman Capote expresses the profound impact that writing his book 'In Cold Blood' had on him. He conveys that the process was not just challenging but devastating to the core of his being, suggesting that art can extract a heavy emotional cost from those who create it. The intensity of his experience implies that successful art requires significant personal sacrifice and vulnerability, possibly altering the creator's identity and spirit.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
During a talk on writer's block, one could reference this quote to illustrate the emotional investment in writing.
More from Truman Capote
All quotes →All writing, all art, is an act of faith. If one tries to contribute to human understanding, how can that be called decadent? It's like saying a declaration of love is an act of decadence. Any work of art, provide it springs from a sincere motivation to further understanding between people, is an act of faith and therefore is an act of love.
Hot weather opens the skull of a city, exposing its white brain, and its heart of nerves, which sizzle like the wires inside a lightbulb. And there exudes a sour extra-human smell that makes the very stone seem flesh-alive, webbed and pulsing.
I don't want to own anything until I find a place where me and things go together.
The quietness of his tone italicized the malice of his reply.
My yardstick is how somebody treats me.
Similar quotes
I think one of the reasons that I like fiction versus nonfiction is that I myself can kind of disappear from the story.
Do not quench your inspiration and your imagination; do not become the slave of your model.
I see things with my own eyes, just as if they were the first eyes that ever saw, and then I set about to tell, as best I can, just what I've seen.
January 8 has been a lucky day for me. I have started all my books on that day, and all of them have been well received by the readers. I write eight to ten hours a day until I have a first draft, then I can relax a little. I am very disciplined. I write in silence and solitude. I light a candle to call inspiration and the muses, and I surround myself with pictures of the people I love, dead and alive.
Some of what I consider my best work, and some of the best films that I've ever worked on, kind of disappear without a trace. There's no accounting for it. Something connects, or something doesn't.
I get my best ideas in a thunderstorm. I have the power and majesty of nature on my side.