Francesca Lia Block Quotes

You asked me who I thought I was before. I said maybe I was a fish because I love water and you said, you thought a mermaid, maybe. If you were a mermaid, you said, if you were a mermaid, I was the sea.

Relieved because what I dreaded most in the whole world was going to happen and I wouldn’t have to live with it anymore—the fear. There is the relief of finally not being alone and the relief of being alone when no one can take anything away from you. Here she was, my beautiful fear. Shiny as crystal lace frost.

It’s scary to become a woman in this world. We have to understand that some of the messages we get, messages that we are not enough, are there to keep our power in check. We can’t buy into these messages.

The girl in the mirror wasn’t who I wanted to be and her life wasn’t the one I wanted to have.

My mother says that pain is hidden in everyone you see. She says try to imagine it like big bunches of flowers that everyone is carrying around with them. Think of your pain like a big bunch of red roses, a beautiful thorn necklace. Everyone has one.

When you live in a city with no stars to wish on, you have to wish on each other.

I think depression creates in me an urgent need to write, but I also believe that daily stress, and even the positive ‘stress’ of intense happiness, can compel me to express myself through the written word.

I wish I wasn’t a girl who needed so much but a little free creature that slept in deserts and ran on clouds and lived on lilies.

You’re meant to have whatever your heart desires. Whatever your heart wants that much is already a part of you.

Magic can be found in stolen moments.

Here you go on this long long dream. Don’t even try to wake up. Just let it go on until it is over. You will learn many things. Just relax and observe because there is pain and that’s it mostly and you aren’t going to be able to escape no matter what. Eventually it will all be over anyway. Good luck.

You were just a boy on a bed in a room, like a kaleidoscope is a tube full of bits of broken glass. But the way I saw you was pieces refracting the light, shifting into an infinite universe of flowers and rainbows and insects and planets, magical dividing cells, pictures no one else knew.

Writing is literally transformative. When we read, we are changed. When we write, we are changed. It’s neurological. To me, this is a kind of magic.

Maybe any love we ever have is an angel in whatever form.

Flowers are reincarnation. They come out of the earth of our ashes. Nothing else looks so soul-like.

Find the goddess inside yourself instead of looking for the god in someone else.

Sometimes I wanted to peel away all of my skin and find a different me underneath.

No matter how bad things get, you can always see the beauty in them. The worse things get, the more you have to make yourself see the magic in order to survive.

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.

Sometimes a wild horse needs to feel that his rider is just a little bit wilder.

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.

I was staring to learn how to forget the things that made me sad. It was like a charm you followed step-by-step, collecting and blending the ingredients, placing everything in its proper place, reciting the incantation. It was the magic of forgetting.

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.

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.