“Poetry is just so emo." he said. "Oh, the pain. The pain. It always rains. In my soul.”
“The rain to the wind said,
You push and Ill pelt.
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodgedthough not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.”
“Singing in the rain. Im singing in the rain. And its such a fucking glorious feeling.”
“And now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears- the wind howls. Why must you mimic them?”