Buddy Wakefield Quotes
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There is a point when tears don't work to wash things away anymore. Grabbing for breath has now broken my fingers.
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What paper planes and empty seats most have in common is that they are best made by children still learning how to ride things out.
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The future gets no say in who we are.
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Jordan tattoos the words "forgive me" in thick black letters down the inside of his arm so that when he looks at his wrist he will remember not to hate himself so much. What he keeps forgetting is that there is life after survival.
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You can call me an angry ghost when I'm gone, or laugh into my disposition. But my mom will still see me as her wide-eyed wanderer out behind the garage inventing ways to fend off dog attacks that will probably never happen.
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How honest is it that we drink until we are dehydrated?
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But I still show up for gentleman practice in the company of lead dancers, hoping their grace will get stuck in my shoes.
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Hearts don't break, y'all. They bruise and get better.
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If I didn't have so much of this life all wrong I would have gotten it right by now.
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If we really do get what we give then I give up, so I can get up.
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Pretend – inside your skin – you've got a friend, who's willing to give you everything you ever wanted in exchange for all you've ever been.
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We both spend our money on things that break too easily like… people.
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We can stick anything into the fog and make it look like a ghost.
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Stop congregating in the valley just because an echo sounds good when it agrees with itself.
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The truth is that this universe is gassy and unpredictable. It still has not said excuse me for The Big Bang. Sometimes we expect too much instead of practicing enough or receiving in us just the right answer.
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The first time my town saw the sky it sucker-punched us in the throat, left us breathless, said, I'm gonna keep you awake some nights without touching you. You'll make it up, the pain, you always do.
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What children and the landing of a plane most have in common is that they are best made by a line drive of pilot lights guided through a single tambourine across the day we met in a field of wet metal hands on The Gospel of Lightning.