Maia > Maia's Quotes

“Fresh moments ignite the senses. Create them.”
― Amy Leigh Mercree, Joyful Living: 101 Ways to Transform Your Spirit and Revitalize Your Life

“Morning. Strawberry sky dusted with white winter powder sugar sun. And nobody to munch on it with”
― Francesca Lia Block, Missing Angel Juan

“Everything was chocolate ice cream and kisses and wind.”
― Francesca Lia Block, The Hanged Man

“Stories are like genies...They can carry us into and though our sorrows. Sometimes they burn, sometimes they dance, sometimes they weep, sometimes they sing. Like genies, everyone has one. Like genies, sometimes we forget that we do.
Our stories can set us free...When we set them free.”
― Francesca Lia Block

“...choose to believe in your own myth
your own glamour
your own spell
a young woman who does this
(even if she is just pretending)
has everything....”
― Francesca Lia Block, How to (Un)cage a Girl

“Magic can be found in stolen moments.”
― Francesca Lia Block

“A kiss about apple pie a la mode with the vanilla creaminess melting in the pie heat. A kiss about chocolate, when you haven't eaten chocolate in a year. A kiss about palm trees speeding by, trailing pink clouds when you drive down the Strip sizzling with champagne. A kiss about spotlights fanning the sky and the swollen sea spilling like tears all over your legs.”
― Francesca Lia Block

“Our eyelashes brushed like they would weave together by themselves, turning us into one wild thing. I say, “I think I missed you before I met you even.”
― Francesca Lia Block

“Just like any woman,...we weave our stories out of our bodies. Some of us through our children, or our art; some do it just by living. It's all the same.”
― francesca lia block

“Maybe i would become a mermaid... i would live in the swirling blue-green currents, doing exotic underwater dances for the fish, kissed by sea anemones, caressed by seaweed shawls. I would have a doliphin friend. He would have merry eyes and thick flesh of a god. My fingernails would be tiny shells and my skin would be like jade with light shining through it I would never have to come back up



”
― Francesca Lia Block

“You make me feel like I have wings when you touch me.”
― Francesca Lia Block, Cherokee Bat and the Goat Guys

“I will be thin and pure like a glass cup. Empty. Pure as light. Music. I move my hands over my body - my shoulders, my collarbone, my rib cage, my hip bones like part of an animal skull, my small thighs. In the mirror my face is pale and my eyes look bruised. My hair is pale and thin and the light comes through. I could be a lot younger than seventeen. I could be a child still, untouched.”
― Francesca Lia Block

“Flowers are reincarnation. They come out of the earth of our ashes. Nothing else looks so soul-like.”
― Francesca Lia Block, Echo

“Weetzie wished she could shake blue glitter around all of them - keeping them sparkling and safe.”
― Francesca Lia Block

“You are my Marilyn. You are my lake full of fishes. You are my sky set, my 'Hollywood in Miniature,' my pink Cadillac, my highway, my martini, the stage for my heart to rock and roll on, the screen where my movies light up.”
― Francesca Lia Block, Weetzie Bat

“The next night I went back to the sea dressed in 1950s silk travel scarves – Paris with the Eiffel tower and ladies in hats and pink poodles, Venice with bronze horses and gondoliers, New York in celestial blue and silver. I brought candles and lit the candles, all the candles, in a circle around the lifeguard stand and put a tape in my boom box. I came down the ramp with the sea lapping at my feet and the air like a scarf of warm silk and the stars like my tiara. And my angel was sitting there solemnly in the sand, sitting cross-legged like a buddha, with sand freckling his brown limbs and he watched me the way no boy had ever watched me before, with so much tenderness and also a tremendous sorrow, which was what my dances were about just as much, the sorrow of not being loved the way my womb, rocking emptily inside of me, insisted I be loved, the sorrow of never finding the thing I had been searching for.”
― Francesca Lia Block, Echo

“they have grown like flowers—bright thoughts along the psycho path that I can pick and gather when the forest feels too dark. It’s not always going to feel like it does today. You”
― Cat Marnell, How to Murder Your Life

“it. No more. I kept scribbling down “rules” as they came to me: NO HARD DRUGS. Ooh, wasn’t it fun counting these pills and organizing them in their cubes and opening and closing the plastic doors? They were like little pink pill-people living in storage units. La la la. No, drugs were not going to rule my fucking life anymore. This was a new era! I was in control now. I made the rules; I was in charge of how I felt! I determined what happened to—”
― Cat Marnell, How to Murder Your Life

“By the time I realized my dream of being an editor, I felt like a zombie disaster trying to pass for human in a world where women didn’t even have split ends. I became more and more self-destructive as I realized I wasn’t cut out for the life I’d imagined for myself. Still,”
― Cat Marnell, How to Murder Your Life

“Wish on everything. Pink cars are good, especially old ones. And stars of course, first stars and shooting stars. Planes will do if they are the first light in the sky and look like stars. Wish in tunnels, holding your breath and lifting your feet off the ground. Birthday candles. Baby teeth.”
― Francesca Lia Block

“Writing is either a way to shed my self-delusions or a way to develop them.”
― Jia Tolentino, Trick Mirror: Reflections on Self-Delusion

“That is the problem. She will cling to power far too long. A king reigns and then he dies. That is the way of it. That is how the young justify obeying their elders—knowing it will one day be their turn. But when their elders do not leave? When she rules for forty years, and may rule for a hundred more? What then?”
― Pierce Brown, Golden Son

“Iris didn’t want to make pastries or teach yoga; she didn’t know what she wanted. She often thought: What happens to people like me, when they’re not young any more? The useless ones – where do they go?”
― Luiza Sauma, Everything You Ever Wanted

“Even she didn’t know who she really was: the fun, capable colleague, or the revolting madwoman lurking under the surface. There was no singularity, no undeniable truth, no middle ground. She felt both sane and deranged, joyful and miserable, competent and crippled.”
― Luiza Sauma, Everything You Ever Wanted

“She didn’t see things, she didn’t hear things, she had a job. She seemed like a normal person. All this pretending, performing, it was her life’s work”
― Luiza Sauma, Everything You Ever Wanted

“How do they do it? thought Iris. How did they get so good at performing their lives? She didn’t feel human, or like a gorilla. She felt like a mad, stupid monkey wearing human skin, barely passing.”
― Luiza Sauma, Everything You Ever Wanted

“Monday has always been my favorite day of the week. Sometimes it wears a deep royal blue—navy blue, midnight blue, Egyptian blue, sapphire blue. But more often Monday takes on a practical blue, economical and inspirational: the color of Bic pens, my students’ workbooks, and simple clothing that goes with everything. Monday is also the day of labels, resolutions, storage boxes. The day of smart choices and reasonable decisions.”
― Maud Ventura, My Husband

“Is this the certain proof of love, to be able to distinguish with a glance your beloved’s silhouette from all other silhouettes, even when you’re nearsighted?”
― Maud Ventura, My Husband

“As a difficult woman, I’ve always been drawn to LA: its cotton candy–colored smog and pre-apocalyptic climate, sunning lizards, lazy diction, palm trees, strip malls, bad values. It’s a goal-oriented town but pretends not to be, and I live for artifice. I want to be around people who are as concerned as I am that Brittany Murphy and her weird husband died within months of each other of the same mysterious cause, people who want to spend their evenings guessing what happened.”
― Anna Dorn, Perfume & Pain

“Somehow I always end up becoming the type of person I once made fun of.”
― Anna Dorn, Perfume & Pain