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.

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

It seemed funny that the sunset she saw from her patio and the one I saw from the back steps was the same one. Maybe the two worlds we lived in weren’t so different. We saw the same sunset.

Y'all were heroes from the beginning. You just didn't 'turn' all of a sudden

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.

I didn't think much about that statement then. But later I would-I still do. I think about it and think about it until I think I'm going crazy.

We couldn't get along without him. We needed Johnny as much as he needed the gang. And for the same reason.