I am a greaser. I am a JD and a hood. I blacken the name of our fair city. I beat up people. I rob gas stations. I am a menace to society. Man do I have fun!
I am a greaser. I am a JD and a hood. I blacken the name of our fair city. I beat up people. I rob gas stations. I am a menace to society. Man do I have fun!
I don't know why I go to school unless for kicks, oh well might as well do dissect a frog.
I lie to myself all the time, but I never believe me.
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.
It's okay. We aren't in the same class. Just don't forget that some of us watch the sunset too.
I've been thinking about it, and that poem, that guy that wrote it, he meant you're gold when you're a kid, like green. When you're a kid everything's new, dawn. It's just when you get used to everything that it's day. Like the way you dig sunsets, Pony. That's gold. Keep that way, it's a good way to be.
Sixteen years on the streets and you can learn a lot. But all the wrong things, not the things you want to learn. Sixteen years on the streets and you see a lot. But all the wrong sights, not the things you want to see.
Stay gold, Ponyboy, stay gold.
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.
There isn't any real good reason for fighting except self-defense.
They grew up on the outside of society. They weren't looking for a fight. They were looking to belong.
They shouldn't hate each other . . . I don't hate the Socs any more . . . they shouldn't hate . . .
Asleep, he looked a lo younger than going-on-seventeen, but I had noticed that Johnny looked younger when he was asleep too, so I figured everyone did. Maybe people are younger when they are asleep.
They used to be buddies, I thought, they used to be friends, and now they hate each other because one has to work for a living and the other comes from the West Side. They shouldn't hate each other...
Can you see the sunset real good on the West side? You can see it on the East side too.
Things were rough all over, but it was better that way. That way you could tell the other guy was human too.
Dally was so real he scared me.
What's the safest thing to be when one is met by a gang of social outcasts in an alley? ...No, another social outcast!
Get smart and nothing can touch you.
You take up for your buddies, no matter what they do. When you're a gang, you stick up for the members. If you don't stick up for them, stick together, make like brothers, it isn't a gang anymore. It's a pack. A snarling, distrustful, bickering park like the Socs in their social clubs or the street gangs in New York or the wolves in the timber.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories