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Quote by Donna Lynn Hope

“Am I a friend or a prospect? Imagine how much kinder life would be if people put as much effort into befriending others instead of trying to sell them something.”

Quote by Donna Lynn Hope

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Donna Lynn Hope

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“The patches are the stories. Hold onto that. And the muddy zigzag of ducktape against the cracked doorglass. There's four kids who sleep here, a nuff for the fingers on each otherses hands. There's room in each of them for one important thing. They're a band. It's not they're in a band. They're a band. Four spikes of ducktape, up and down, like mountain peaks or a sawblade. Every band's got a sign, something to sew on your jacket, gouge on the wall at a show. Four spikes up and down say MEATHEADS, and you picked a fucked window to knock at, tourist. They're the best band in the world.”

“Another thing about Oscar is that he wasn’t afraid of anyone. And he always made up his own mind, no matter what other people said. They’re two of the best things I remember about him now. He wasn’t just my friend. He was kind of magic. I can’t really explain it better than that. He was honest and he was decent and he was always cheerful. And evem though his brother Stevie had to use a wheelchair, it wasn’t a problem the way people usually think it is, because Oscar always made sure that every door was opened and every stairway had a ramp, and every train station had the right access so he could get it. He used to say that if the world was designed properly, the whole population would be flying around the place in wheelchairs. And when he said that, Stevie used to laugh.”

“What am I going to do without you, Oscar?’ ‘You’ll be fine’, I answered. ‘You could probably do some time away from me. I’m a pain in the neck. You’re always saying so.’ ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘It’ll be great to have you out of my hair for a few months.’ ‘Oscar, seriously though.’ ‘What?’ ‘Stay in touch, will you? Please?’ ‘Of course I will.’ ‘Promise?’ ‘Yes, I promise.’ ‘Good, because I’m really going to miss you.”

“There is now a distance, pressing quite persistent, May be only inches apart, but as if an artery is blocked. There now seem some secrets, a word which was earlier so needless. May be they now laugh so less, and even in summers, the air between them feels dense. Who connects? Who neglects? Barely matters when you are no more friends.”