“I have a face I cannot showI make the rules up as I go It's a try to love me if you canAre you man enough to be my man”
“I remember a man, a very lonely man, coming up to me at the end of a reading and looking into my face and saying, 'I feel as if I have looked down a corridor and seen into your soul.' And I looked at him and said, 'You haven't.' You know, Here's the good news and the bad news: you haven't! I made something, and you and I could look at it together, but it's not me; you don’t live with me; you're not intimate with me. You're not the man I live with or my friend. You will never know me in that way. I'm making something, like Joseph Cornell makes his boxes and everyone looks into them, but it's the box you look into; it's not the man or the woman. It's alchemy of language and memory and imagination and time and music and sounds that gets made, and that's different from 'Here is what happened to me when I was ten.”
“Preston pulled me up against his chest and cupped my face in his hands. “I love you. I love you so damn much it consumes me. I don’t deserve you, but I’m gonna become the man who does deserve you. I promise you. I’ll make you proud of me.”I reached up and ran my thumb over his lips. “I am and will always be proud of you. I want the world to know you’re mine.”
“When you have to face up to the fact that marriage to the man you love is really over, that's very tough, sheer agony. In that kind of harrowing situation, I always go away and cut myself off from the world. Also, I sober up immediately when there is genuine bad news in my life; I never face it with alcohol in my brain. I just rented a house in Palm Springs and sat there and just suffered for a couple of weeks. I suffered there until I was strong enough to face it.”
“You make me want to be a better man," Danny said. "You make me want to be worthy of you, Miller. But if that's ever going to stick, if it's ever going to be real, I have to do it for me. I can't do it just because its who you need me to be. It has to be who I need to be too.”
“I have to kill you,” he stated, using the full press of his body to hold me to the wall, “But—I have to have you first, Leese.” His mouth was moving toward mine, but my face turned away.“You’re going to have to shoot me,” I replied, a certain amount of bravado still clinging to my moral fiber. “The only man that is going to have me will be the one who loves me.”