9 Quotes by J.D. Brewer

Out here, we let ourselves be imperfect. We let ourselves have the room to make mistakes—sometimes tragic mistakes—then we allow ourselves forgiveness. Within that forgiveness, we try to be better than what we were.

We'd seen it a million times before, since girls on the Tracks rarely knew of loyalty. She'd be gone when the breeze got under her skin. "You can't trust Vagabond hearts. They are already so broken that they think nothing of breaking yours," he had explained once. I wondered who was the first to break his heart–where he'd gained that knowledge the first time around.

Never take offense. Even if someone is robbing you blind, it’s usually nothing personal. Survival is a funny thing, and we all react differently to it. Some react to fear and forget to be human and humane, but that doesn’t mean they have malicious intentions. People have different boundaries, and I promise to respect yours, hon.

What I couldn’t bring myself to hate was the energy. I reveled in the way it ebbed and flowed as people connected over something and the way the multiplication of people intensified it around us. Energy made me both love and hate being in large crowds because there was too much chaos to the peace and too much peace to the chaos.

Where would the end be? Will the idea—the definition—of perfection stay the same? No. Perfection is too fickle. It’s in our nature to never be satisfied. We always think we can do more.

After all, I wasn’t even sure if the ancient causes belonged to me in the first place because being born into a belief tended to make me feel more like I belonged to it instead.

As is the curse of Humanity. We constantly rediscover the old and sing platitudes of its newness.

The way he said it spoke of an ache I recognized. I knew that no matter how similar they were, no two losses were the same, but despite his loss being from a different circumstance, I felt his sadness as my own. We sat there in silence with my hand resting in his. My bandage told its own stories while we remembered the girl who taught Randolf such a valuable lesson about the small turning into the large.

Where would the end be? Will the idea – the definition – of perfection stay the same? No. Perfection is too fickle. It’s in our nature to never be satisfied. We always think we can do more.