Texas is a hell hole, man. Dirt, cactus, lizards, dirt, cactus, the Bush family.

To be successful in life, there are many hurdles you have to get over. For me, the biggest hurdle to success has always been failure. But, growing up, my Dad was always positive... that I'd never amount to anything.

Participation trophies are the soul herpes of a generation.

My parents got divorced. Early and ugly. My mum was nuts so I lived with my dad. We used to play a father/son games. Pin the blame on me, rock, paper, get me another beer, casino night.

Normal people, who grow up with compassion, never amount to anything. They're the ones who end up gluing those little dots on the highway. Or, putting glue on the dots for the guy who glues dots on the highway. Screwed up people, who weren't coddled or raised with compassion, we get stuff done. Sure, we feel a little alone and abandoned, but, we're... very... happy. Why can't you love me, daddy?

I have a dream! Because I have lived a nightmare.

Blood doesn't make you family. Hell, an only child can bleed. It's the sharing of pain that makes you family. 'Cause, you can't really love a brother or sister until you know that they're as scarred and broken as you are. And, hey, if you grow up with a father like mine and you aren't at least a little scarred and broken, well then, that's not your father. You were spawned by an entirely different guy.