Salzburg... is a mountain town with a rushing river running right through the center, everything in the rain various shades of green and brown.— Jonathan Carroll
The most gorgeous Jonathan Carroll quotes that are glad to read
For an adult, eating alone at McDonald's is admitting a kind of defeat.
Sometimes it is the smallest thing that saves us: the weather growing cold, a child's smile, and a cup of excellent coffee.
The only two important things in life are real love and being at peace with yourself.
Women are always complaining about men's fascination with breasts.
But what if men were absolutely indifferent to breasts? What would women do then with these things that serve one function once or twice in a lifetime, and the rest of the time are just in the way?
You have to walk carefully in the beginning of love;
the running across fields into your lover's arms can only come later when you're sure they won't laugh if you trip.
Learn to wait; invariably either things will change or your heart will.
Dogs are minor angels, and I don't mean that facetiously.
They love unconditionally , forgive immediately, are the truest of friends, willing to do anything that makes us happy
People who truly love us can be divided into two categories: those who understand us, and those who forgive us our worst sins. Rarely do you find someone capable of both.
How easily we ignore or forget the small kindnesses and considerations in life which are really the only everyday magic we witness on a regular basis. Just think- to make happiness out of nothing more than a few kind words or a generous gesture.
If you are a success in life, there are places you must go and pay to be humiliated. It is an unwritten law that human beings must be tormented throughout their lives in one way or another. If you are fortunate enough to have risen to a social level where no one does it to you for free, then you must pay for the service.
Coffee on an airplane always smells bad.
Whenever it is served, suddenly the whole cabin stinks of it.
At a Boston signing, someone from the audience asked why I was so obsessed with furniture in my books. The question rattled around in my head. I had no idea that I was obsessed with furniture.
Sometimes you have to give up on people. Not because you don't care, but because they don't.
Both young children and old people have a lot of time on their hands.
That's probably why they get along so well.
Real love is always chaotic. You lose control; you lose perspective. You lose the ability to protect yourself. The greater the love, the greater the chaos. It’s a given and that’s the secret.
If it was as logical as that, I wouldn't continue to feel as bad as I do.
I know what you're saying, and you're absolutely right in a way. But logic and rationality only go so far. Then you know what happens? Ha! Then your heart adds its two cents and everything reasonable goes right-out-the-window.
Fear pounds on the door to our heart demanding to be let in.
Joy is modest and often comes into our lives like a shy person entering a room; it can take a while to even notice it's there.
Even the handsomest men do not have the same momentary effect on the world as a truly beautiful woman does.
Everyone coming out of a perfume store is smelling the back of their hand.
I read less of everything now. With only fond memories of others' work, it will be interesting to give my own journal writing a try now.
It's always fun to walk down the street with or behind a really beautiful woman, for no reason other than to see how the world reacts to them.
I forgive nothing. If you stole my orange crayon in the fifth grade, you're still on my hit list, buddy.
It took me less than half a lifetime to realize that regret is one of the few guaranteed certainties. Sooner or later everything is touched by it, despite our naive and senseless hope that just this time we will be spared its cold hand on our heart.
Very often I'll find out at the end of a book what I put in at the beginning.
A sort of process of elimination and discovery in one.
Most men, no matter how well or badly dressed, carry overstuffed, beat up wallets that should have been replaced years ago. Why is that? Every time I see a guy take out a wallet anywhere, it looks like a piece of old melted chocolate cake-with strings.
Krakow is one of my favorite places on earth.
It is a medieval city full of young people. A wonderful, striking combination.
Some people are like blue jeans- the older and more beat up they get, the better they look.
In Poland, my audience is all women between 18 and 30.
At U.S. conventions, you have the fantasy and science fiction crowd. At Harvard you have an entirely different audience. It's so schizophrenic.
Far more disturbing than any spook house at an amusement park is a ride through the old hometown if you've been away for years.
There's almost always a point in a book where something happens that triggers the rest of the plot.
I write about what interests me. It's very dangerous when you try to satisfy an audience.
I feel like a cliche.
I had always liked blind dates. If nothing else, it was an interesting way of discovering what people thought of you.
Death doesn't make you sad- it makes you empty.
That's what's so bad about it. All of your charms and beliefs and funny habits fall fast through a big black hole, and suddenly you know they're gone because just as suddenly, there's nothing left at all inside.
The keys that unlock the heart are made of funny materials: a disarming phrase that comes out of the blue, nowhere, a certain sexy walk that sends you reeling, the way someone hums when she is alone. My father said it was the way my mother danced with him.
People are always waiting to be discovered.
The Viennese wash everything. Where else in the world does the government hire public servants to wash public telephone booths and the glass over traffic lights? Every time I see someone doing these things, I smile like a child.
One of the saddest realities is that we never know when our lives are at their peak. Only after it is over and we have some kind of perspective do we realize how good we had it a day, a month, five years ago.
Your boyfriend had a dream about potatoes and you're asking me to interpret it? I'm just old. Being old doesn't mean you know more; it means you ate enough fiber.
If you are very lucky, you're allowed to be in certain places during just the right season of your life: by the sea for the summer when you're seven or eight and full of the absolute need to swim until dark and exhaustion close their hands together, cupping you in between.
I find you write with one person in mind.
Usually for me that one person is my wife, because she's my most severe critic and understands best what I'm trying to do.
Kids own nothing. Everything is either promised, borrowed, longed for or exaggerated.
The only question that nobody ever asks is: What breaks your heart? I think that should be asked of all "artists."... So, what breaks your heart?
I've never seen myself as a fantasy writer - ever.
When you love someone deeply, you know secrets they haven't told you yet.
Or secrets they aren't even aware of themselves. ... She was also the person I wanted to share the trivia of my life with, because that too is part of the magic of concern: Whatever you live is important to them and they will help you through it.
I have never heard anyone say This is it.
I know right now is the high point of my life. It will never get any better. Only in retrospect do we recognize the best times and of course then it is too late.
Why do people always gesture with their hands when they talk on the phone?
A short story is a sprint, a novel is a marathon.
Sprinters have seconds to get from here to there and then they are finished. Marathoners have to carefully pace themselves so that they don't run out of energy (or in the case of the novelist-- ideas) because they have so far to run. To mix the metaphor, writing a short story is like having a short intense affair, whereas writing a novel is like a long rich marriage.
Lying is too much trouble. You have to make sure to taste each word before letting it off your tongue. I hate that. It's hard enough making people understand without lying.