Suddenly it wasn't only a personal thing to me. I could picture hundreds and hundreds of boys living on the wrong sides of cities, boys with black eyes who jumped at their own shadows. Hundreds of boys who maybe watched sunsets and looked at stars and ached for something better. I could see boys going down under street lights because they were mean and tough and hated the world, and it was too late to tell them that there was still good in it, and they wouldn't believe you if you did.

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.

I never base a character on someone I know. You can get ideas from real life, but every character you write is some aspect of yourself.

That's why people don't ever think to blame the Socs and are always ready to jump on us. We look hoody and they look decent. It could be just the other way around - half of the hoods I know are pretty decent guys underneath all that grease, and from what I've heard, a lot of Socs are just cold-blooded mean - but people usually go by looks.

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

When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home.

I don't know why I go to school unless for kicks, oh well might as well do dissect a frog.