Modest Mouse Quotes

Music is to the soul what words are to the mind.

The good times are killing me

Another reptilian brain disguised as a modest mouse in the rat race.

If life's not beautiful without the pain, well I'd just rather never ever even see beauty again.

Well see what you wanna see. You should see it all. Well take what you want from me. You deserve it all. Nine times out of ten our hearts just get dissolved. Well I want a better place or just a better way to fall.

I was in heaven, I was in hell, Believe in neither, But fear them as well.

Our ideas held no water but we used them like a dam.

Someday you will die somehow and something’s gonna steal your carbon.

I wish I could hit upon a pleasant track of thought, a track indirectly reflecting credit upon myself, for those are the pleasantest thoughts, and very frequent even in the minds of modest mouse-coloured people, who believe genuinely that they dislike to hear their own praises.

we're all doctors trading sadness for numbness grass looks much greener but it's green-painted cement the mayor's machines are there cleaning the pavement you can't make dirt clean so we'll just lemon-scent it

You're the icing on the cake on the table at my wake, You're the extra ton of cash on my sinking life raft, You're the loud sound of fun when I'm trying to sleep, You're the flowers in my house when my allergies come out.

Sometimes life's OK

The days get longer and the nights smell green I guess it's not surprising but it's spring and I should leave.

You're starting conversations You don't even know the topic

Went to bed and didn't see why every night turns out to be a little bit more like Bukowski. And yeah, I know he's a pretty good read

Never Ending Math Equation" I'm the same as I was when I was 6 years old And oh my God I feel so damn old I don't really feel anything On a plane, I can see the tiny lights below And oh my God, they look so alone Do they really feel anything? Oh my God, I've gotta gotta gotta gotta move on Where do you move when what you're moving from Is yourself? The universe works on a math equation that never even ever really even ends in the end Infinity spirals out creation We're on the tip of its tongue, and it is saying We ain't sure where you stand You ain't machines and you ain't land And the plants and the animals, they are linked And the plants and the animals eat each other Oh my God and oh my cat I told my Dad what I need Well I know what I have and want But I don't know what I need Well, he said he said he said he said "Where we're going I'm dead.

Sleepwalking" I fell in love and I needed a roadmap To find out where you lived So excited now Sleepwalking, cuz I'm sleepwalking The white trash boys Listen to the headphones Blasting white noise In the convenience store parking lot I hung around there Wasting my time Hoping you'll stop by Cuz I'm sleepwalking, I'm sleepwalking A mutual friend's parents Left town for a week So we raided their liquor stash And walked down by the riverside Sleepwalking, cuz I'm sleepwalking

I long for models of solidarity and human unity and difference rooted in friendship, work, partially shared purposes, intractable collective pain, inescapable mortality, and persistent hope. It is time to theorize an ‘unfamiliar’ unconscious, a different primal scene, where everything does not stem from the dramas of identity and reproduction. Ties through blood—including blood recast in the coin of genes and information— have been bloody enough already. I believe that there will be no racial or sexual peace, no livable nature, until we learn to produce humanity through something more and less than kinship.

The World At Large Ice-age heat wave, can't complain. If the world's at large, why should I remain? Walked away to another plan. Gonna find another place, maybe one I can stand. I move on to another day, to a whole new town with a whole new way. Went to the porch to have a thought. Got to the door and again, I couldn't stop. You don't know where and you don't know when. But you still got your words and you got your friends. Walk along to another day. Work a little harder, work another way. Well uh-uh baby I ain't got no plan. We'll float on maybe would you understand? Gonna float on maybe would you understand? Well float on maybe would you understand? The days get shorter and the nights get cold. I like the autumn but this place is getting old. I pack up my belongings and I head for the coast. It might not be a lot but I feel like I'm making the most. The days get longer and the nights smell green. I guess it's not surprising but it's spring and I should leave. I like songs about drifters - books about the same. They both seem to make me feel a little less insane. Walked on off to another spot. I still haven't gotten anywhere that I want. Did I want love? Did I need to know? Why does it always feel like I'm caught in an undertow? The moths beat themselves to death against the lights. Adding their breeze to the summer nights. Outside, water like air was great. I didn't know what I had that day. Walk a little farther to another plan. You said that you did, but you didn't understand. I know that starting over is not what life's about. But my thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth. My thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth. My thoughts were so loud.

Interstate 8" Spent 18 hours waiting stoned for space I spent the same 18 hours in the same damn place I'm on a road shaped like a figure 8 I'm going nowhere, but I'm guaranteed to be late You go out like a riptide You know that ball has no sides You're an angel with an amber halo Black hair and the devil's pitchfork Wind-up anger with the endless view of The ground's colorful patchwork How have you been? [x2] How have you? [x2] I drove around for hours, I drove around for days I drove around for months and years and never went no place We're on a pass, we're on pass I stopped for gas, but where could place be To pay for gas to drive around Around the Interstate 8 You go out like a riptide You know that ball has no sides You're an angel with an amber halo Black hair and the devil's pitchfork Wind-up anger with the endless view of The ground's colorful patchwork How have you been? [x2] How have you? [x2]

I backed my car into a cop car the other day Well he just drove off sometimes life's OK I ran my mouth off a bit too much oh what did I say Well you just laughed it off it was all OK And we'll all float on OK And we'll all float on OK And we'll all float on OK And we'll all float on any way Well, a fake Jamaican took every last dime with that scam It was worth it just to learn from sleight of hand Bad news comes don't you worry even when it lands Good news will work its way to all them plans We both got fired on exactly the same day Well we'll float on good news is on the way And we'll all float on OK And we'll all float on OK And we'll all float on OK And we'll all float on alright Already we'll all float on Now don't you worry we'll all float on alright Already we'll all float on alright Don't worry we'll all float on (alright already) And we'll all float on alright Already we'll all float on alright Don't worry even if things end up a bit too heavy We'll all float on alright Already we'll all float on alright Already we'll all float on OK Don't worry we'll all float on Even if things get heavy we'll all float on alright Already we'll all float on alright Don't you worry we'll all float on alright All float on

After listening to their spiel, I'd point out that 311's first album sounds pretty much like their second album, which sounds pretty much like their third album. The band wasn't selling out. The rest of the world was just catching up.

Somewhere between dust and the stars

And everywhere there were parents – parents mouse-like, parents aggressive, parents ostentatious, parents modest, parents subdued, parents animated: a growing rout lured together under the radiant porcelain sky – and for what? the headmaster wondered. It was improbable that they enjoyed themselves. It was improbable, even, that their offspring enjoyed themselves. And yet there was a glamour about it all which stirred the blood, and the headmaster himself, as he contemplated the spectacle, was not immune.

I wish I could hit upon a pleasant track of thought, a track indirectly reflecting credit upon myself, for those are the pleasantest thoughts, and very frequent even in the minds of modest mouse-coloured people, who believe genuinely that they dislike to hear their own praises.

And the ocean breathes salty, won't you carry it in? In your head, in your mouth, in your soul And the more we move ahead the more we're stuck in rewind Well I don't mind. I don't mind. How could I mind?

On the other hand, even if you’re as poor as a church mouse, isn’t it nice to be able to pay, to chuck some modest lump into the vast crater of debt to your parents that, as their child, you find yourself standing in?