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I didn't know the inner me was hungry, I said to Art. That's because it already starved to death.

Joe Hill

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Joe Hill
Hungry
Inner
Already
Death
Art
Didn
Starved

More quotes by Joe Hill

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Some things you didn't give away, no matter how much you owed.
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Workers of the world awaken. Break your chains, demand your rights. All the wealth you make is taken, by exploiting parasites. Shall you kneel in deep submission from your cradle to your grave? Is the height of your ambition to be a good and willing slave?
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The blood of a redheaded woman is three degrees cooler than the blood of a normal woman. This has been established by medical studies.
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I remind myself that no one day of writing matters all that much. A story is built somewhat like a stalactite - one little drip of mud and grit at a time.
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Gold don't come off. What's good stays good no matter how much of a beating it takes.
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I have nothing to say for myself, only that I have always tried to make this earth a little bit better
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You know someone for a while and then one day a hole opens underneath them, and they fall out of your world.
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Aren't you going to tell me I'm not so bad? she asked. Mmm-no. I was thinking how every man loves a hot girl with a history of making mistakes. Because it's always possible she'll make one with you.
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Taking a thing apart is always faster than putting something together. This is true of everything except marriage.
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... people made the imaginary real all the time: taking the music they heard in their head and recording it, seeing a house in their imagination and building it. Fantasy was always only a reality waiting to be switched on.
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The mad sometimes drilled holes in their own heads to let the demons out. To relieve the pressure of thoughts they could no longer bear. Jude understood the impulse. Each beat of his heart was a fresh and staggering blow felt in the nerves behind his eyes and in his temples. Punishing evidence of life.
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Horror was rooted in sympathy . . . in understanding what it would be like to suffer the worst.
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Her sanity was a fragile thing, a butterfly cupped in her hands, that she carried with her everywhere, afraid of what would happen if she let it go-or got careless and crushed it.
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You loved me as hard as you knew how. I'd give anything to go back and love you better.
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I will die like a true-blue rebel. Don't waste any time in mourning - organize.
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Don't mourn, Organise
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It was something... the way a person's life picked up speed, the way a life was like a bullet aimed at one final target, impossible to slow or turn aside, and like the bullet, you were ignorant of what you were going to hit, would never know anything except the rush and the impact.
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I hope if there is another world, we will not be judged too harshly for the things we did wrong here—that we will at least be forgiven for the mistakes we made out of love.
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Who knows what may lie around the next corner? There may be a window somewhere ahead. It may look out on a field of sunflowers.
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I guess Satan was the first superhero [...] In his first adventure, he took the form of a snake to free two prisoners being held naked in a Third World jungle prison by an all-powerful megalomaniac. At the same time, he broadened their diet and introduced them to their own sexuality.
Joe Hill