“Don't we all have a certain number of images that stay around in our head, which we undoubtedly call memories and improperly so, and which we can never get rid of because they return in our sky with the regularity of a comet - torn away also from a world about which we know almost nothing? They return more frequently than comets do, in fact. It would be better, then, to speak of them as loyal satellites, a bit capricious and therefore even troublesome: they appear, disappear, suddenly come back to badger our memory at night when we cannot sleep. But, little as we may care to, as our hearts tell us to, we can also observe them at will, coldly, scrutinize their shadows, colors, and relief. Only, they are dead stars: from them we shall never grasp anything other than the certainty that we have already seen them, examined them, questioned them without really understanding the laws that the line of their mysterious orbits obeyed.”

“Marc Jacobs is full of creative people and Louis Vuitton is again a name on the door, a name that has existed for many years but I'm a collaborator there and I bring in other people, other artists and I work with a great creative design team.”

“Vincent Marc Hoherz. On power.The most effective way to loose your power is to make use of it.”

“You can go a hundred miles a second Don't have to drive no lousy cab Got everything you want and more man And the King picks up the tab You walk around on streets of gold all day And you never have to listen To what these customers say and I know...”

“I’ve gotta stop thinking I know what other people think, cause most of ‘what other people think’ is something I’m making up. So I should just let them have their experience, I’ll have my experience and not pretend to know, and just get past that. [I think that] is a major obstacle: manifesting that insecurity, that fear. Believing the audience in your head as opposed to what’s really going on in the world—not responding to the one I’m making up, which is always going to judge me harder than the real one.”

“Further, deeper still, those whose true names are for ever hidden from the world picked up the pattern of vibrations in the ether, and something akin to joy stirred in their fathomless minds. Perhaps soon they would be called upon to feed.”

“COSMIC DANCER""I was dancing when I was twelveI was dancing when I was aaahI danced myself right out the wombIs it strange to dance so soonI danced myself right out the wombI was dancing when I was eightIs it strange to dance so lateI danced myself into the tombIs it strange to dance so soonI danced myself into the tombIs it wrong to understandThe fear that dwells inside a manWhat's it like to be a loonI liken it to a balloonI danced myself out of the wombIs it strange to dance to soonI danced myself into the tombBut then again once moreI danced myself out of the wombIs it strange to dance so soonI danced myself out of the womb.”

“You're just jealous," I said."You can believe what you want," Aaron said. "But somebody's stealing from the Grimm Collection. They're either taking the objects or somehow sucking out their magic. Doc and theh librarians are going to find out who, and if Marc is in on it, you're going to be sorry you were helping him.""Marc isn't in on it. And I love this place too! We're all on the same side!""I hope that's true," Aaron said.”

“I’m a firm believer that most people who do great things are doing them for the first time. Returning to my theory of hiring, I’d rather have someone all fired up to do something for the first time than someone who’s done it before and isn’t that excited to do it again. You rarely go wrong giving someone who is high potential the shot.”

“—¿Qué quería? —dije tan fresca como pude. Pero sin mirarla, sin girarme.—Supongo que hablar contigo, justificarse el muy gilipollas —Grace lo odiaba y de su odio hay que cuidarse. Si quería vengarme de Marc solo debía asentir y ella lo entendería. En dos días los medios hablarían de cualquier cosa que lo desprestigiara y estaría acabado. No era la periodista de más peso, el periódico del que era editora era muy respetable. Pero ella no iba a exponerse, la chica tiene enchufe. Que lo diga yo que gracias a sus contactos trabajaba donde trabajaba.—Ya. ¿Qué le dijiste?—Que se largara si no quería que clavara el tacón de mis zapatos en sus elitistas y traicioneros huevos.Tragué saliva, casi me reí.Era capaz, de Grace me esperaba todo.—¿Qué zapatos tenías?—Unos Louboutin muy puntiagudos.Imaginar la escena me hizo gracia. Seguro que Marc le miró los zapatos primero.—Los únicos que tienes e ibas a perderlos así…—Nunca podrían haber sido mejor usados, te lo aseguro.—Imagino que tu amenaza lo mantendrá a raya —soné muy borde, no era mi intención. Tampoco la de retractarme.—No lo sé, pero Salo se encargó de darle un par de dolorosas razones para no volver. Aunque ya sabemos que el cabrón tiene más cara que espalda.”

“My father was something of a rainbow-chaser.”