Аутсайдери

"I am a greaser," Sodapop chanted. "I am a JD and a hood. I blacken the name of our fair city. I beat up people. I rob gas stations. I am a menace to society. Man, do I have fun!"

And they can't take anything away from them because they don't have anything in the first place. So they cut their hair.

Darry nuts when I do stuff like that, 'cause I'm supposed to be smart; I make good grades and I have high IQ and everything, but I don't use my head. Besides I like walking.

Этим их банда и отличалась от нашей - у них был главарь и действовали они организованно, мы же просто дружили, ну и друг друга держались, а так у нас каждый сам себе главарь. Может, потому мы их всегда и делали.

There just isn’t much you can say while you are waiting to get jumped.

That's why people don't ever think to blame the Socs and are always ready to jump on us. We look hoody and they look decent. It could be just the other way around - half of the hoods I know are pretty decent guys underneath all that grease, and from what I've heard, a lot of Socs are just cold-blooded mean - but people usually go by looks.

I've been thinking about it, and that poem, that guy that wrote it, he meant you're gold when you're a kid, like green. When you're a kid everything's new, dawn. It's just when you get used to everything that it's day. Like the way you dig sunsets, Pony. That's gold. Keep that way, it's a good way to be.

It seemed funny that the sunset she saw from her patio and the one I saw from the back steps was the same one. Maybe the two worlds we lived in weren't so different. We saw the same sunset.

Can you see the sunset real good on the West side? You can see it on the East side too.

Маленькие бандиты, которые вырастут и станут большими бандитами. Раньше я как-то об этом не думал, но теперь понял, что они с возрастом становятся не лучше, а только хуже.

Я умирал – хотел пепси. Меня, пожалуй, можно назвать пепси-наркоманом. Я ее хлебаю ведрами, пять дней без пепси – и я чуть не помер.

Когда ты ребенок, все - новое, все - рассвет.

Вы ведь понимаете, что вам не победить, да? Вам не победить, даже если вы нас вздуете. Вы все равно останетесь там, где и были - на дне.

Вот она, награда за помощь людям. Статейка в газете да куча проблем.

Смешинка понимал, как оно все в жизни устроено, и вечно превращал все в шутку.