A Quote by Laird Barron

A Pretty Mouth is a fine and stylish collection that pays homage to the tradition of the weird while blazing its own sinister mark. Tanzer's debut is as sharp and polished as any I've seen.
Highway One, Antarctica is a wonderful debut by a writer with razor-sharp insights to the human condition. Justin Herrmann is a voice I hope to hear more from, and soon. Excellent collection.
Truth is an homage that the good man pays to his own dignity.
If religion is the opiate of the people, tradition is an even more sinister analgesic, simply because it rarely appears sinister. If religion is a tight band, a throbbing vein, and a needle, tradition is a far homelier concoction: poppy seeds ground into tea; a sweet cocoa drink laced with cocaine; the kind of thing your grandmother might have made.
We could learn a lot from crayons; some are sharp, some are pretty, some are dull, while others bright, some have weird names, but they all have learned to live together in the same box.
There are so many things that you're supposed to conform to as an actress. Keep your mouth shut. Look pretty. Be a fashionista. I'm not stylish. I don't want to become this character.
Tradition is no longer a continuity but a series of sharp breaks. The modern tradition is the tradition of revolt.
Buenos Aires is easily one of the most stylish cities in the world with its eclectic collection of neighborhoods, each with its own unique charm.
Different cultural and geological references inspire the collection as seen in ancient tribes and tradition.
After working on redesigning so many homes and using whatever furniture I could find, I am so excited to be designing my own collection of home furnishings that are stylish at a great price.
I just stood there staring, because while I've seen a lot of weird things, I hadn't ever seen that.
Hypocrisy is the homage vice pays to virtue.
Fraud is the homage that force pays to reason.
Imitation is the homage mediocrity pays to greatness.
You say I have the most wicked face of any woman. You say my hair is like the serpent locks of Medusa, that my eyes have the cruel cunning of Borgia, that my mouth is the mouth of the sinister scheming Delilah, that my hands are like the talons of a Circe or the blood-bathing Elizabeth Bathory. And then you ask me of my soul—you wish to know if it is reflected in my face.
I skipped kindergarten because I was reading at a pretty high level. That's a weird and cocky thing to say, but I was real sharp, and I knew that early on.
When I use a name or place, I want to leave the reader open to the waterfall of determinacy that it may provoke. And I don't know, but I must mention the name Borges. I try to mention it in every one of my works. It's a mark, a stamp, a sort of homage to Argentinidad. But it's an homage that works through pat phrases, those stock images that populate his work: the night, labyrinths, libraries. That is, I don't want simply to pay homage to Borges, but rather the contrary: to recall his commonplaces.
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