Women Aren't Very Bright," Rip

The Seeds Of Love Have Taken Hold And If We Won't Burn Together, I'll Burn Alone.

I Have All The Characteristics Of A Human Being: Blood, Flesh, Skin, Hair; But Not A Single, Clear, Identifiable Emotion, Except For Greed And Disgust. Something Horrible Is Happening Inside Of Me And I Don't Know Why. My Nightly Bloodlust Has Overflown Into My Days. I Feel Lethal, On The Verge Of Frenzy. I Think My Mask Of Sanity Is About To Slip.

I Keep Feeling That People Are Becoming Less Human And More Animalistic. They Seem To Think Less And Feel Less So That Everyone Is Operating On A Very Primitive Level. I Wonder What You And I Will See In Our Lifetimes. It Seems So Hopeless Yet We Must Keep On Trying ... I Guess We Can't Escape Being A Product Of The Times, Can We?

I'm Really Shocked When Critics Get Morally Outraged At My Fiction Because They Think I'm Condoning What's Going On. I Never Come In As The Author And Say, "hey, Okay. I'm Interrupting The Narrator Here. I'm Bret Easton Ellis, And I'm The Author."

The Images I Had Were Of People Being Driven Mad By Living In The City. Images Of Parents Who Were So Hungry And Unfulfilled That They Ate Their Own Children.