Perestrokia
Nurse: Even in New York in the eighties, that is strange.
Louis: I don't like cults.
Joe: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is not a cult.
Louis: Any religion that isnt more than 2000 years old is a cult. ANd I know people who would consider that generous.
Joe: WHy is this such a surprise?
Louis: Well, of course, all the men I go to bed with turn out to be...OF COURSE it's a surprise!!!!!
Louis: Why am I with you? With anyone? I should be exterminated.
Harper: I could be a witch. Why not? I married a fairy.
Roy: What's it like? After?
Belize: Hell or Heaven? Like San Fransisco...overgrown with weeds...but flowering weeds. Windows missing from the buildings like broken teeth...ravens fill the sky...prophet birds...trash like rubies, and voting booths. Big dance halls filled with lights and gender confusion and all the deities are creole...race, taste and history finally over come. And you aint there.
Roy: And heaven?
Belize: That was heaven, honey.
Mr. Lies: Respect the delicate ecology of your delusions.
Prior: I usually say, "Fuck the truth," but mostly, the truth fucks you.
Harper Pitt: I dreamed we were there. The plane leapt the tropopause, the safe air, and attained the outer rim, the ozone, which was ragged and torn, patches of it threadbare as old cheesecloth, and that was frightening. But I saw something that only I could see, because of my astonishing ability to see such things: Souls were rising, from the earth far below, souls of the dead, of people who had perished, from famine, from war, from the plague, and they floated up, like skydivers in reverse, limbs all akimbo, wheeling and spinning. And the souls of these departed joined hands, clasped ankles, and formed a web, a great net of souls, and the souls were three-atom oxygen molecules, of the stuff of ozone, and the outer rim absorbed them, and was repaired. Nothing's lost forever. In this world, there's a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we've left behind, and dreaming ahead. At least I think that's so.
Prior Walter: I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.
Hannah Pitt: Well that's a stupid thing to do.
Roy Cohn: You don't know what all I know. *I* don't know what all I know. Half this shit I make up and I'm still right, learned that in the 50's.
Belize: Look at that heavy sky out there.
Louis Ironson: Purple.
Belize: Purple? What kind of a homosexual are you anyway? That's not purple, Mary, that color out there... is mauve.
Angel: Stop moving!
Roy Cohn: Do you wanna be NICE? Or you wanna be EFFECTIVE?
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