Yeah, who cares who lives or dies in prison? We read the names in the morning paper and they mean nothing to us.They’re faceless. The truth is we don’t wanna put a face on them. We don’t wanna know who they really are, because then it might too close to home, and home it’s all about, right? Making a home no matter where you are. No matter who you are. At the end of the day everybody wants some to rest, somewhere to lay their bones, even if it’s in the land called Oz. Yeah, like Dorothy says when she wakes up in her own bed back at Aunt Em’s, “There is no place like home.” There’s no fucking place like home.
Hill abim gettolarda değil de, elinde kalemle büyüseymiş Dostoyevski ayarı falan bitirirmiş kariyerini sanırım. Yine biz ondan razıyız, çok seviyorum seni canım abim.