I’ve always been a dreamer, have always believed in the power of love and art and loud, life-affirming rock and roll, but, for the first time, I’m starting to have doubts. Can a dream even exist in reality? Or does it turn to stone the second it leaves your mind?

He felt homesick for places he had never been. He missed hearts he had never loved.

You can live with me in this house I've built out of writers blocks.

so id burn this whole city down just to show you the light

It takes knowledge to know something. It takes guts to do what you know.

And there are people that will stand in your corner and convince you to stand up for another round no matter what.

He felt like the last bullet in a gun meant for revenge, sealed with a kiss.