Merrill Markoe Quotes

I sometimes look into the face of my dog Stan and see a wistful sadness and existential angst, when all he is actually doing is slowly scanning the ceiling for flies.

I always hated those classic kid movies like Old Yeller or The Yearling where the beloved pet dies. What would be so wrong with having those damn kids learn their lessons about mortality from watching Grandpa kick? Then at least the dog would be around to comfort them.

Maybe this is kind of cliche, but animals, well, dogs, are what I do for a living. One reason I like spending time with them so much is they seem to think people are really good. They live with us, and obey our rules, most of which make no sense to them. And the main reason they do it is because they like us. When I watch them, sometimes I'm so blow away by how enthusiastic they are about everything we do that I have to go out and buy them something squeaky or chewy. Just because I love proving to them that it's not a mistake to see the world as a great benevolent place. I hope one day to react to something with as much pure ecstasy as I see in Chuck's face every time I throw the ball. Sometimes he looks so happy, it reminds me of the way blind people smile way too big because they can't see themselves. And if none of this links to anything in you, well... I think you don't know who I am.

To find the right person, you must first BE the right person.

Though it seems like time itself moves more slowly when you're in the presence of people who actually see and hear you. There's a certain weight to a moment that never comes when you feel invisible.

In a way, watching an attractive, potentially dangerous guy play guitar is a little like watching a tiger agree to do tricks for his trainer. You know that they could just turn and kill you. But you're so flattered and pleased that instead they agreed to stand on a decorative box and wave and count for the crowd that for a while you forget how big the scary part of them really is.

I'm clear with all my bitches...I hump her till she bites me. Then it's adios bitches, time for BALL.

By the time the last of these relationships ended I was such a quaking mass of colliding, exploding neurotransmitter malfunctions that the only coherent sentence I could form in my native tongue went: "Never again.

Come on! You must have at least suspected there was someone else," he said. "Couldn't you smell her on his pants?

Why do you always come in to kiss me while I'm on the toilet?" I asked. "Makes us feel close to you," Chuck said, surprised I would ask. "Peeing is one of the special things we share.

Well, there's two kinds of peeing...There's regular peeing, because you have to pee. And then there's auxiliary competitive peeing. For acquiring empire. I'm all about the real estate.

I gotta ask you...why do you always circle before you lie down?" I said. "As opposed to what?" Johnny Depp asked, astonished by the question. "You mean not circle? How would I tamp down the leaves and twigs and get comfortable?" "What leaves and twigs?" I said. "This bed is twig-free." "Hmm. I see your point," said Johnny Depp, pausing for a second before he resumed circling. "But did it occur to you maybe that's because I circle first?

You just never know when it might be cookie time. And, that is what the dogs have taught me.

And Mom? You're a good girl." "Thank you. That's very sweet of you, Chuck" Though what I was really thinking was: This is too fucking weird.

Someone's at the door! Someone's at the door!!!" they both yelled. "I just told you, it's my—" I called, knowing they couldn't hear. "Hey. Get away from the door, you miserable jack-off," I heard Chuck shout at my dad. "I'll rip your ass in half." "Me too! I'll rip your ass in half, too!!" yelled Johnny Depp. "We hate you. We hate you. We hate you. We hate you." "You guys, knock it off," I said, racing to open the door. "I just told you...it's my—Hi, Daddy," I said, hugging him. "Come on in! Great to see you again!!" screamed Chuck. "Thank God you're finally here!" screamed Johnny Depp. "We missed you. Where you been? Welcome back! Who are you??

That's just stupid," said Chuck. "Have a look around at the rest of the animal kingdom lately? I'll have sex with anyone who doesn't try to kill me." "And even then, as long as their butt smells good, I'm in," said Johnny Depp.

I don't know if you can empathize, but it hurts when someone you love dumps you." "You're joking, right?" said Chuck. "How do you think I wound up in the pound? At least grid boy didn't try to have you gassed. I still don't know what I did to those people. Or why you like that grid asshole so much." "He's not only an asshole," I said, sorry to have to defend him. "At first he was smart and sexy and fun." "How was he fun?" said Chuck. "Did he play ball? No. Did he bring meaty snacks? No. And he made such a big fucking deal when I drooled on his pants. How much fun was that?

At least watching dirty movies can be kind of fascinating if they aren't too horribly strange. And even the horribly strange ones are still more interesting than televised sports.

I have a very hard time getting to rage. I always assume that maybe I've done something wrong and then forgotten about it.

Once you get into it, it's all you can think about. Look, I know you don't trust my judgment because I eat cat shit. Someday I'll explain that to you. But right now do what I say. Just pick up the ball and throw it.

Younger love, it seemed, was mainly about the idea of potential--the illusion that magical transformations were bound to occur when the person you think you love has a miraculous impromptu awakening after some metaphorical lightning bolt, made out of your wishes and projections, suddenly brings them to their senses. On the other hand, older love is all about what you are hoping is still possible, after you have mourned the death of the idea of yourself as manufacturer of miracles. Older love starts with the unpleasant truth that expecting a person to change for the better spontaneously, simply because you wish it, makes as much sense as counting on the lottery for next month's rent.

Tell me

I learned to cope with my needs for attention by creating my own private personal rituals to make myself feel special.