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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?

Joe Hill

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Already, though, she understood the difference between being a child and being an adult. The difference is when someone says he can keep the bad things away, a child believes him.
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Don't ever have children, Tyler, unless you're ready to be afraid everyday for the rest of your life.
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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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Music [is] the third rail of life. You grabbed it to shock yourself out of the dull drag of hours. To feel something. To burn with all the emotions you didn't get to experience in the ordinary run of school, TV, and loading the dishwasher after dinner.
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I will be waiting by candlelight in our tree house of the mind.
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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.
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Horror was rooted in sympathy . . . in understanding what it would be like to suffer the worst.
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Men, she thought, were one of the world's few sure comforts, like a fire on a cold October night, like cocoa, like broken-in-slippers. Their clumsy affections, their bristly faces, and their willingness to do what needed to be done - cook an omelette, change lightbulbs, make with hugging - sometimes almost made being a woman fun.
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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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You loved me as hard as you knew how. I'd give anything to go back and love you better.
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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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I will die like a true-blue rebel. Don't waste any time in mourning - organize.
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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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Work and pray, live on hay, youll get pie in the sky when you die.
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But God fears women even more that He fears the devil- and is right to. She, with her power to bring life into the world, was truly made in the image of the Creator, not man.
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Don't mourn, Organise
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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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Taking a thing apart is always faster than putting something together. This is true of everything except marriage.
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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 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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