Hurricane
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"Money is not power. Never has been. True, it helps people get there, but real power is the monuments built to your name, not the paper in your wallet. Real power is how many people write about you, how many would jump in front of a bullet for you, how many would cry at your goddamn funeral, how many would toil endlessly just for you and you alone. Not all powerful people are rich, not all rich people are powerful. Money is sand, it runs through your fingers and leaves you standing there with nothing. Power cannot be tangible and if it ever becomes so, it will lose its own sense of definition."
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#470
elizaschuyler
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"You lied to me," He insinuated. I felt my heart leap to my throat, this can't be happening. "It was a mistake, everyone makes mistakes," my voice dropped. "Yes, but you make more than most people." "I-" "You hurt me; you worry everyone, everyone you get close to you hurt. Ever since Ma and Pa died you've been nothing but inconsiderate to everyone else. You hurt all of us with your lies." "Not on purpose," I whispered, "I never wanted to hurt you, I only wanted to-" Soda put his hands up to silence me. "Rosey-" "Please don't do this, Soda, I care about him." I heard panic tinging my own voice. He said nothing. ----------- Friends are the family you can choose, but sometimes, those friends are more like lovers than family. Rosemarie Curtis, Sadie Cade, Sodapop Curtis, Ponyboy Curtis, Johnny Cade, Darry Curtis, Dallas Winston, Steve Randle, and Two-bit Mathews. All greasers and the best of friends, inseparable at the least. It's always been this way; a gang, a tight knot group of people. Nobody thought anything could disrupt the perfect little imbalance of friendship that consisted in the gang. Especially love, or complicated relationships. Complicated meaning... hidden. How will their friendship stay on the straight and narrow when fate's gun is loaded with twists, ready to be fired at the 9 gang members? And the main question is; can you keep a secret? Because there are plenty to keep.

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