Rusted Quotes

“He’s like an old clock the won’t tell time but won’t stop neither with the hands bend out of shape and the face bare of numbers and the alarm rusted silent, an old worthless clock that keeps ticking and cuckooing without meaning nothing.”

“I like places like this," he announced.I like old places too," Josh said, "but what's to like about a place like this?"The king spread his arms wide. "What do you see?"Josh made a face. "Junk. Rusted tractor, broken plow, old bike."Ahh...but I see a tractor that was once used to till these fields. I see the plow it once pulled. I see a bicycle carefully placed out of harm's way under a table."Josh slowly turned again, looking at the items once more.And i see these things and I wonder at the life of the person who carefully stored the precious tractor and plow in the barn out of the weather, and placed their bike under a homemade table."Why do you wonder?" Josh asked. "Why is it even important?"Because someone has to remember," Gilgamesh snapped, suddenly irritated. "Some one has to remember the human who rode the bike and drove the tractor, the person who tilled the fields, who was born and lived and died, who loved and laughed and cried, the person who shivered in the cold and sweated in the sun." He walked around the barn again, touching each item, until his palm were red with rust." It is only when no one remembers, that you are truely lost. That is the true death.”

“I'm a super hero, too, underneath my sweater.”

“While in England write or get wrought rotten rusted.”

“I still smell your absence on my skin. It smells of insomnia and rusted key locks...”

“When was the last time she had trusted God, really rusted Him, without reservations, without a backup plan or a safety net?”

“The door opens with a rusted jingle, and an animatronic Santa insults my moral virtue three times. Ho, ho, ho.”

“Let the sun go down on you like King Harold at the battle of Hastings — fighting gloriously. Maybe a loser but what a loser! Greater in defeat than the conqueror. Certainly not a coward that rusted out lurking in his tent.”

“My head and shoulders melted first, followed by my hips and knees. Before long I was a puddle, soaking into the pretty cotton prints. I drenched the quilt she never finished, rusted the metal parts of her sewing machine. I was pure liquid loss...”