our bones like stems into the sky will forever cry victory

Your parents don't give you much love, do they?' 'I don't need that stuff,' I told her. 'Henry, everybody needs love.' 'I don't need anything.' 'You poor boy.

Sundays kill more people than bombs.

There's music in everything, even defeat

There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out.

unless the sun inside you is burning your gut, don't do it

i was born to hustle roses down the avenue of the dead.