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Bikers Quotes

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Bikers Quotes

“It’s just the way, and it’s a good way, and you know what I mean, Dad. I want a handful,” Rush went on. “I wanna wake up and not know what the day is gonna bring, mostly because she’s gonna make it an adventure. I want kids, and I want the woman I choose to make them with to be about them. To have all the love in the world for them. To make it so they know that and never doubt it. And you know why I want that.”

“There was also a term for bikers called “target fixation.” When a rider looked at something for too long and focused on a passing object, or any small distraction to the left or right of him, he had an increased chance of colliding with that object. It was extremely dangerous to fixate. Any concentration expended that was not ahead of the rider oftentimes resulted in severe injury or death. A biker who wanted to live must not be thrown off course. And after miles and miles of riding, of looking ahead, of sixty mile per hour winds piercing his neck, the gloss of his eyes hardening, he naturally never target fixated on things or people either.”

“Hear? I didn’t believe it. Not until then. Not until that. Something that was so Logan. He was the only person I knew who said that like he said it. Hear? He’d said that the first time I met him. He’d said it a million times after. And he’d just given it to me again. Not like he did when we were playing our crazy game. Like he used to give it to me. Wars were fought for things that had no meaning. Hearts were broken. Betrayals were committed. Fortunes were paid. Sacrifices were made. All for nothing. All for shit. But I’d give anything, battle to the death, break hearts, tell lies, pay every penny I owned, sell my soul to have back Logan’s hear? just like that. Something that meant the world because it meant I had him. And I had it back. Him back.”

“The DNA in your body determines your hair, your height, your eye color. It does not decide that you are going to get joy out of causing pain and hurting others like he did. It does not decide that you will break down other people so you can stand taller. You decide that, Blair. You get to choose. You get to be whoever the hell you want to be, and honestly, I think you made that choice a long time ago.”

“I’m done walking through fire for you, High!” I yelled. “I’m done not because I’m done but because there’s nothing left of me to burn. You have it all! You’ve always had it all! I gave up everything so you could have it all! Please! God! Leave me to my nothing!” I swung an arm out to their table. “And if you gave one single shit about me, ever, make them let me have my nothing!”

“We crossed the Mississippi and on to Illinois. At Starved Rock, 100 miles south of Chicago, we followed 40 or 50 bikers with ‘Bikers against Child Abuse’ as their colours. Next was Indiana, with foggy river towns and vast farmlands, Amish homes in Ohio with smoke curling from the chimneys, then 43 miles of unbroken forests and prime trout-water rivers in West Virginia. We stayed overnight and ate fresh game pie, although whether we were eating possum, rabbit or raccoon we never discovered.”

“On that, I pushed, shoved, desperate to get to a place where I could completely fade away and do it alone. Having been given too much too soon and paying the price by having it ripped away so that was all I’d ever have. Nothing. All I’d ever be. Alone. With all that, I made my final dash through the flames, making my way through the bar, out, and I ran to my car on my high heels. Destined to fade away. Ready to fade away. Needing nothing but to leave it all far behind.”

“And suddenly the motorcyclist felt ignited, that was, in the most subtle spark of need: to live in that alternate, finer side of life that was within reach and waited to be taken. It occurred to him what he wanted. And as that butterfly of chance flew past the biker’s soul, he eyed it and caught the white-winged sign instantly. There, he said to himself, I’ll go. And he attended to that meteoric obligation—that dear, vivacious reality unveiled by leaping humans. The biker wanted to see what a certain future looked like, and excitedly leaned back on his Triumph, released the clutch, and pushing off on the rubber footrests, leaned high up in the air to his right and threw himself off the bike.”

“Do not follow where the path may lead.”

“We were in Greenville, South Carolina, where he lived, and he was coming the next day to the show, but he passed away the night before. I was very close to my grandfather. He was the first guy to teach me how to ride a motorcycle, so (his death) meant a lot to me. It just gave me a perspective on life and how important it is to live it and enjoy it while we're here. Sometimes we're looking for the grass to be greener, and what's awesome is right in front of you.”