He was an animal. Everyone knows never to corner one that's injured...even if it is just his pride.

He's tall with shaggy blond hair and muscular arms. He's holding a twenty-dollar bill. He's muscular. And he's holding a twenty--wait, I already said that.

I hate studying and I hate partying. But I'm okay with motocross. And muscles.Motocross and Muscles. Now that should be a Lifetime movie.

Three years? That's a thousand tomorrows, ma'am.

Maybe the greatest anger and frustration come not from unemployment or poverty or the lack of a future but from the feeling that you have no culture, because you've been torn between cultures, between incompatible symbols. How can you exist if you don't know where you are? So you burn cars, ecause when you have no culture, you're no longer a civilised animal, you're a wild beast. And a wild beast burns and kills and pillages.

I am here, come closer,_ the old donkey said with her eyes. __ will mother you.