I have no idea why I write. The old standards are: I like to express my feelings, stretch my imagination, earn money.

Maybe the two different worlds we lived in weren't so different. We saw the same sunset.

We had played a kid's version of gang fighting called "Civil War," and then later we had got in on the real thing, we fought with chains and we fought barefisted and we fought Socs and we fought other grease gangs. It was a normal childhood.

It was too vast a problem to be just a personal thing. There should be some help, someone should tell them before it was too late. Someone should tell their side of the story, and maybe people would understand then, and wouldn’t be so quick to judge a boy by the amount of hair oil he wore.

I used to be sure of things. Me, once i had all the answers. I wish i was a kid again, when i had all the answers

Okay greasers,you've had it.

I'm a good judge of my own work.