The Doors Forum

That's what real love amounts to - letting a person be what he really is. Most people love you for who you pretend to be. To keep their love, you keep pretending - performing. You get to love your pretence. It's true, we're locked in an image, an act - and the sad thing is, people get so used to their image, they grow attached to their masks. They love their chains. They forget all about who they really are. And if you try to remind them, they hate you for it, they feel like you're trying to steal their most precious possession.

Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that, fear has no power, and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes. You are free.

People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.

The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are. You trade in your reality for a role. You trade in your sense for an act. You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask. There can't be any large-scale revolution until there's a personal revolution, on an individual level. It's got to happen inside first.

A friend is someone who gives you total freedom to be yourself-and especially to feel, or not feel. Whatever you happen to be feeling at any moment is fine with them. That's what real love amounts to - letting a person be what he really is.

I think of myself as an intelligent, sensitive human being with the soul of a clown which always forces me to blow it at the most important moments.

Where's your will to be weird?

The future is uncertain but the end is always near.

It may have been in pieces, but I gave you the best of me.

A friend is someone who gives you total freedom to be yourself.

You feel your strength in the experience of pain.

No one here gets out alive.

I am interested in anything about revolt, disorder, chaos-especially activity that seems to have no meaning. It seems to me to be the road toward freedom... Rather than starting inside, I start outside and reach the mental through the physical.

The most loving parents and relatives commit murder with smiles on their faces. They force us to destroy the person we really are: a subtle kind of murder.

There are things known and there are things unknown and in between are the doors.

Some of the worst mistakes in my life were haircuts.

I like people who shake other people up and make them feel uncomfortable.

I see myself as a huge fiery comet, a shooting star. Everyone stops, points up and gasps "Oh look at that!" Then-whoosh, and I'm gone...and they'll never see anything like it ever again... and they won't be able to forget me- ever.

I think the highest and lowest points are the important ones. Anything else is just...in between.

Time to live, time to lie, time to laugh, and time to die. Take it easy baby. Take it as it comes.

I've noticed that when people are joking they're usually dead serious, and when they're serious, they're usually pretty funny.

People are strange . . .

Listen, real poetry doesn't say anything; it just ticks off the possibilities. Opens all doors. You can walk through anyone that suits you.

Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders round as ravens claws.

I am troubled, immeasurably by your eyes. I am struck by the feather of your soft reply. The sound of glass speaks quick, disdain and conceals what your eyes fight to explain.

There are no laws, there are no rules, just grab your friend and love him.

No eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn.

Drugs are a bet with your mind.

Are you a lucky little lady in the City of Light? Or just another lost angel... City of Night?

Actually I don't remember being born, it must have happened during one of my black outs.