Lawrence Ferlinghetti Quotes

After a while of getting jerked around, you realize what the business is really made up of.

Sometimes my dad even gets on this kick--'You hate this country'....I have to tell him...I just hate being lied to.

Any affair, by its very nature, is quite dysfunctional.

Do you know what it means to come home at night to a woman who'll give you a little love, a little affection, a little tenderness? It means you're in the wrong house, that's what it means.

As bad as I thought it would be, it was worse than I ever thought it would be.

Anyone who idolizes you is going to hate you when he discovers that you are fallible. He never forgives. He has deceived himself, and he blames you for it.

Once love had seemed like magic. Now it seemed like tricks.

Tal told me he loved me, and told me and told me, but you don't tell someone that and then tell them they're not experienced enough in bed and should read a book or something to learn, or they should try wearing deep-red lipstick and tight skirts to look hot like their best friend once in a while. If Tal hadn't lied to me when he said he loved me, I might not be without a future right now, a sucker who was so chickenshit she allowed herself to believe a false dream from a false god. I'm not sure I ever even liked Tal, much less loved him.

I got a problem, can you relate? I got a woman calling love hate.

It didn't pay to trust another human being. Humans didn't have it, whatever it took.

I have been taken for a ride a couple of times. I've been hurt by people who I've had a 90 percent possibility of being hurt by.

I thought that he was righteous, but he's vain. Oh, somethings a telling me I wear the ball and chain.

She didn't love me that much, but she moved in with me. That's a plus. And then one night, I caught her making out with another dude on the driveway. That's a minus.

Couples often live out years of falsehood trying to protect and save a relationship, all the while destroying any chance of real relationship.

All those months of taking it for granted that Peeta thought I was wonderful are over. Finally, he can see me for who I really am. Violent. Distrustful. Manipulative. Deadly. And I hate him for it.

Calvin: Somewhere in Communist Russia, I'll bet there's a little boy who has never known anything but censorship and oppression. But maybe he's heard of America, and he dreams of living in this land of freedom and opportunity! Someday, I'd like to meet that little boy... and tell him the awful TRUTH ABOUT THIS PLACE!! Calvin's Dad: Calvin, be quiet and eat the stupid Lima beans.

Even if you find him. Even if he didn't leave you on purpose, he can't possibly live up to the person you've built him into." It's not like the thought hasn't occurred to me. I get that the chances of finding him are small, but the chances of finding him as I remember him are even smaller. But I just keep going back to what my dad always says, about how when you lose something, you have to visualize the last place you had it. And I found―and then lost―so many things in Paris.

Oh God. valentine's Day tomorrow. Why? Why? Why is (the) entire world geared to make people not involved in romance feel stupid when everyone knows romance does not work anyway. Look at (the) royal family. Look at Mum and Dad.

Misanthropy ariseth from a man trusting another without having sufficient knowledge of his character, and, thinking him to be truthful, sincere, and honourable, finds a little afterwards that he is wicked, faithless, and then he meets with another of the same character. When a man experiences this often, and more particularly from those whom he considered his most dear and best friends, at last, having frequently made a slip, he hates the whole world, and thinks that there is nothing sound at all in any of them.

sometimes I hate you," she said.

I used to be sceptic, but not anymore, because now I am positive that I'm getting screwed.

I hate this world, this dream, this horrible nightmare, with its churches and chicaneries, its books and blackguardisms, its fair faces and false hearts, its howling righteousness on the surface and utter hollowness beneath and, above all, its sanctified shopkeeping!

Enough no more; Tis not so sweet now as it was before.

Hope, how she had grown to hate the word. It was an insideious seed planted inside a person's soul, surviving covertly on little tending, then flowering so spectacularly that none could help but cherish it.

Saying and Doing, have quarrel'd and parted.