Your mother is not crazy. Neither, contrary to popular belief, is your brother. He is merely miscast in a play. He would have made the perfect knight in a different century, or a very good pagan prince in a time of heroes. He was born in the wrong era, on the wrong side of the river, with the ability to do anything and finding nothing he wants to do.

You get tough like me and you don't get hurt. You look out for yourself and nothin' can touch you.

Johnny almost grinned as he nodded. "Tuff enough," he managed, and by the way his eyes were glowing, I figured Southern gentlemen had nothing on Johnny Cade.

Nothing sparkly can stay.

California is like a beautiful wild kid on heroin, high as a kite and thinking she's on top of the world, not knowing she's dying, not believing it even if you show her the marks.

What's the safest thing to be when one is met by a gang of social outcasts in an alley? ...No, another social outcast!

He died violent and young and desperate, just like we all knew he'd die someday.