Pete Wentz Quotes

He hugged her tight, mixing their tears to be bottled and fermented, so they could be drunk on each other when this was all over.

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

But you couldn’t touch this kid right now, bullets would have dodged him.

I love these dudes, but I don't know what they're doing with all that facial hair these days. There's a lot of peach fuzz going on. They called me up to go to a Kanye West concert, and I was like 'hold on I'll call Kanye.' So I called him and they got into the show, and I called Kanye later and said, 'Yo did you see my dudes from Panic! at the show?' and he was like 'Nah they mst not have been dressed like they were from the 1700's'. But I back them. They have their own unique style, which is cool.

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?

It was the single best sexual encounter I've ever had. We were in the Soho Grand Hotel, and there was a mirror, and I was like, 'Oh my God, you're banging the girl of your dreams and you're watching it right now.'

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

I’m not just taking trips down memory lane; I’m broken down on it.

The Worst part of acting like a jerk isn't when you're doing it. Its when you realize you were.

The only good thing about times of adversity is that you realize who your real friends and fans are - and the rest go away - which in my mind is an OK thing.

She pulls me toward her, tells me, “You’re sweet, you know that?” I crack a smile. Life will not tear us apart this time. Our hearts will see to it.

First he threw out all of his records, trashed his heart and then he went to sleep.

Just a tiny red sliver remains in the battery icon. I wish humans came with the same kind of indicator . . . it would make things much easier. You would know how to deal with every person on the planet, and I’d always be in the red.

There was a fence and there was this other van- So I go, 'Fence or van? Cause I'm crashing into one of them,' and I said 'Fence,' so I hit the fence and bounced into the van

The hardest thing about depression is that it is addictive. It begins to feel uncomfortable not to be depressed. You feel guilty for feeling happy.

My wife can look at me in a certain way and I can tell by her eyes how she's feeling about me or when I should stop talking about something. It's kind of the way twins have their own thing.

She is all I could ever ask for, she is perfect, and right now, with those big, green eyes and pillowy lips and alabaster thighs, the idea of doing this for the rest of our lives doesn’t seem all that daunting. She’s the last reprieve. The stay of execution. She gives me hope. But times are tough for dreamers. And even if my dream is a simple one—all I want is for Her to be in love with me forever—I know it’s still a long shot. Life ruins everything.

I want so badly to tell Her it’s going to be all right, that I’ll leave the band and forget this silly crusade. I want to tell Her that I am ready to settle for this life, that she is all I will ever need in the world, and that we’ll never be apart. I want to tell Her that I will protect Her forever. But none of that would be the truth. So I don’t say anything at all.

You are what you love, not who loves you.

I wanted to find a cave and hang out there for the rest of my life and be a cave painter and eat dirt.

But our love isn’t easy because it’s not meant to be. It requires work and sacrifice and protection. And I wouldn’t want it any other way, not right now, with the morning sun making the curtains glow and Her arms around my neck and the sounds of the street so far away. I’m in it for the long haul, I’m not going away.

Everyones greatest fantasy is to walk away from the life (they think)you lead

This is how your heart gets snagged, like a balloon on a barbed-wire fence, this is where pieces of you get torn away.

The hardest part of watching someone watching me is making it appear that I'm not watching.

There she is, lying in front of me, smoking a cigarette, thinking of something or someone else. And that’s how she is stuck in my mind forever. We are two explorers in the dark. Mapless and hopeless. Alone together.

The silence is the worst part of any fight, because it's made up of all the things we wish we could say, if only we had the guts.

We are dreamers. We worship love, we hope against hope and toss practicality out the window.

My wife and I have created our own language. We can be at a table with six other people and have an argument without anyone knowing. It doesn't even have to be out loud. It's bizarre.

This story never really had a point. It’s just a lull - a skip in the record. We are addresses in ghost towns. We are old wishes that never came true. We are hand grenades (and every word you say pulls the pin). We are all gods, we are all monsters.

Love exists in powder. Love exists in pills. We are all addicts.

I'm a bit of a tease. I'd make out with a lot of people but not go beyond that.

Everyone you idolize wakes up scared to be themselves sometimes.

That’s the problem with all of this. No matter how hard I try, I can’t make it perfect. I can’t keep it in a bottle, can’t ignore reality. Chemicals are involved, the kind scientists try to synthesize and put into pill form, and they’re making tremendous advances every day. They’re winning the war against love. It’s probably inevitable now. There are only two ways to see the world: either no one and nothing is connected to anything, or we are all a random series of carbon molecules connected to each other. Tell me if there’s room for love in either of those scenarios.

It's semi-frustrating when your name actually becomes a synonym for douchebag.