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I will be waiting by candlelight in our tree house of the mind.

Joe Hill

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Joe Hill
Candlelight
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Mind

More quotes by Joe Hill

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Was there any human urge more pitiful-or more intense- than wanting another chance at something?
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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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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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Were talking about an attitude. Delayed gratification is there, planning, be able to give up something now to get something later.
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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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You loved me as hard as you knew how. I'd give anything to go back and love you better.
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He understood that the ghost existed first and foremost within his own head. That maybe ghosts always haunted minds, not places. If he wanted to take a shot at it, he’d have to turn the barrel against his own temple.
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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.
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Terror is the desire to save your own ass, but horror is rooted in sympathy.
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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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The language of sin was universal, the original Esperanto.
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Work and pray, live on hay, youll get pie in the sky when you die.
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I will die like a true-blue rebel. Don't waste any time in mourning - organize.
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A pamphlet, no matter how good, is never read more than once, but a song is learned by heart and repeated over and over. And I maintain that if a person can put a few common sense facts into a song and dress them up in a cloak of humor, he will succeed in reaching a great number of workers who are too unintelligent or too indifferent to read.
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She just knew that even when you had nothing, you still had love.
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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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There's only room for one hero in this story-and everyone knows the devil doesn't get to be the good guy.
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It was like wondering how evil had come into the world or what happens to a person after he dies: an interesting philosophical exercise, but also curiously pointless, since evil and death happened, regardless of the why and the how and what-it-meant.
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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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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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