Dally is tougher than I am. Why can I take it when Dally can’t?
You still have a lot of time to make yourself be what you want. There’s still a lot of good in the world.
Maybe the two worlds we lived in weren’t so different. We saw the same sunset.
Stay gold Ponyboy, Stay Gold...
Sent from heaven? Had he gotten a good look at Dallas?
His eyes are dark brown – lively, dancing, recklessly laughing eyes that can be gentle and sympathetic one moment and blazing with anger the next.
He gets drunk on just plain living. And he understands everybody.
There’s still lots of good in the world. Tell Dally. I don’t think he knows.
I’d rather have anybody’s hate than their pity.
You don’t just stop living because you lost someone. I thought you knew that by now. You don’t quit!
It seems like we’re always searching for something to satisfy us, and never finding it. Maybe if we could lose our cool we could.
That was his silent fear then – of losing another person he loved.
I like to watch movies undisturbed so I can get into them and live them with the actors. When I see a movie with someone it’s kind of uncomfortable, like having someone read your book over your shoulder.
I’ll bet you think the Socs have it made. The rich kids, the West-side Socs. I’ll tell you something, Ponyboy, and it may come as a surprise. We have troubles you’ve never even heard of. You want to know something?” She looked me straight in the eye. “Things are rough all over.
Life had seemed so simple once, now it suddenly seemed so complicated. I could remember a time when my only worry had been paying Charlie the three bucks I owed him.
The difference is,” I said evenly, “that was then, and this is now.
Like a friend once said to me, that was then, this is now.
Greasers can’t walk alone too much or they’ll get jumped, or someone will come by and scream “Greaser!” at them, which doesn’t make you feel too hot, if you know what I mean. We get jumped by the Socs. I’m not sure how you spell it, but it’s the abbreviation for the Socials, the jet set, the West-side rich kids. It’s like the term “greaser,” which is used to class all us boys on the East Side.
He was going to get somewhere. Living the way we do would only make him more determined to get somewhere.
Nature’s first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold, her early leaf’s a flower, but only so an hour, then leaf subsides to leaf, so dawn goes down to day, nothing gold can stay.