Will Grayson, Will Grayson Arts and Culture Quotes

Tiny Cooper calls me and, real quiet and fast, he blurts out, "Neutral Milk Hotel is supposedly playing a reunion show at the Hideout and it's totally not advertised and no one even knows about it and holy s***, Grayson, holy s***!"

"Holy s***!" I shout. One thing you can say for Tiny: whenever something awesome happens, Tiny is always the first to hear.

Now, I am not generally given over to excitement, but Neutral Milk Hotel sort of changed my life. They released this absolutely fantastic album called In the Aeroplane Over the Sea in 1998 and haven't been heard from since, purportedly because their lead singer lives in a cave in New Zealand. But anyway, he's a genius. (1.31-33)

Chicago is brackish lake water and soot and sweat and grease and I love it, and I love this song, and Tiny's saying I love this song, and he's got the visor down so he can muss up his hair a little more expertly. That gets me to thinking that Neutral Milk Hotel is going to see me just as surely as I'm going to see them, so I give myself a once-over in the rearview. My face seems too square and my eyes too big, like I'm perpetually surprised, but there's nothing wrong with me that I can fix. (1.38)

These four guys come out onstage, and while they don't bear a striking resemblance to the members of Neutral Milk Hotel, I tell myself that, whatever, I've only seen pictures on the web. But then they start playing. I'm not quite sure how to describe this band's music, except to say that it sounds like a hundred thousand weasels being dropped into a boiling ocean. And then the guy starts singing:

She used to love me, yeah
But now she hates
She used to screw me, bro
But now she dates
Other guys
Other guys

Barring a prefrontal lobotomy, there's absolutely no way that the lead singer of Neutral Milk Hotel would ever think, let alone write, let alone sing, such lyrics. And then I realize: I have waited outside in the cold gray-lit car-exhausted frigidity and caused the possible broken bones in Gary's hand to hear a band that is, manifestly, not Neutral Milk Hotel. And although he is nowhere amid the crowd of hushed and stunned NMH fans surrounding me, I immediately shout, "Damn you, Tiny Cooper!" (1.54-56)

He's still looking at me quizzically when, sounding stone sober, he says, "Grayson, something needs to happen," and I say, "Huh?" And Tiny says, "Because otherwise what if we just end up like everybody at the Hideout?" And I'm about to say huh again, because those people were far cooler than our classmates and also far cooler than us, but then I know what he means. He means, What if we become grown-ups waiting for a band that's never coming back? (1.81)

i step away from the computer and finish my homework quickly. then i go in the den and turn on law & order, since the only thing i can really count on in life is that whenever i turn on the tv there will be a law & order episode. this time it's the one with the guy who strangles blonde after blonde after blonde, and even though i'm pretty sure i've seen it like ten times already, i'm watching it like i don't know that the pretty reporter he's talking to is about to have the curtain cord around her neck. i don't watch that part , because it's really stupid, but once the police catch the guy and the trial's going on, they're all

lawyer: dude, the cord knocked this microscopic piece of skin off your hand while you were strangling her, and we ran it under the microscope and found out that you're totally f***ed.

you gotta know he wishes he'd worn gloves, although the gloves probably would've left fibers, and he would've been totally f***ed anyway. when that's all over, there's another episode i don't think i've seen before, until this celebrity runs over a baby in his hummer and i'm like, oh, it's the one where the celebrity runs over the baby in his hummer. i watch it anyway, because it's not like i have anything better to do. then mom comes home and finds me there and it's like we're a rerun, too. (2.58-60)

I look at her profile. The list of favorite music and favorite books is obscenely long, and I can only get through the A's of the music list before giving up. She looks cute in her pictures, but not quite like she looks in real life—her picture smile isn't her smile.

Jane: I hear Tiny's recruiting you to the GSA.
Me: Indeed.
Jane: You should come. We need members. It's kind of pathetic, actually.
Me: Yeah, I think I will.

Jane: Cool. I didn't know you had a Facebook. Your profile is funny. I like "ACTIVITIES: ought to involve sunglasses."
Me: You have more favorite bands than Tiny has ex-boyfriends.
Jane: Yeah, well. Some people have lives; some people have music.
Me: And some people have neither.
(3.16-17)

when i get back to the living room, pride & prejudice is almost over, which means that everyone knows pretty much where they stand with everyone else. usually my mom is a crumpled-tissue mess at this point, but this time there's not a wet eye in the house. she pretty much confirms it when she turns the dvd off […]

mom: it's getting old, isn't it? mom at home on a saturday night, waiting for darcy to show up.
me: there's not an actual answer to that question, is there?
mom: no. probably not.
me: have you actually asked this darcy guy out?
mom: no. i haven't actually found him.
me: well, he's not going to show up until you ask him out. (4.46, 51)

"So I used to date this boy and I knew he was going to be at the concert and I wanted to go with you partly because I knew Randall would be there but then I wanted to go even without you because I knew he would be there and then he saw me while MDC was playing 'A Brief Overview of Time Travel Paradoxes,' and he was screaming in my ear about how he had an epiphany and he now knows that we're supposed to be together and I was, like, I don't think so and he quoted this e.e. cummings poem about how kisses are a better fate than wisdom and then it turns out that he had MDC dedicate a song to me which was the kind of thing that he would never have done before and I feel like I deserve someone who consistently likes me which you kind of don't and I don't know."

"What song?"

"'Annus Miribalis.' Uh, he's the only person who knows my locker combination, and he had them dedicate it to my locker combination, which is just , I mean, I don't know. That's just. Yeah." (9.41-43)

tiny: it's a musical i'm working on. it's based on my life. i think one of the songs might help right now.

we are on a street corner in front of a porn shop. there are people passing by. chicagoans—you can't be less musical than chicagoans. i am in a completely demolished state. my mind is having a heart attack. the last thing i need is for the fat lady to sing. but do i protest? do i decide to live the rest of my life within the subway system, feeding off the rats? no. i just nod dumbly, because he wants to sing this song so badly that i'd feel like a jerk to say no. with a dip of his head, tiny starts to hum a little to himself. once he's gotten the tune, he closes his eyes, opens his arms, and sings […]

tiny doesn't just sing these words—he belts them. it's like a parade coming out of his mouth. i have no doubt the words travel over lake michigan to most of canada and on to the north pole. the farmers of saskatchewan are crying. santa is turning to mrs. claus and saying "what the f*** is that?" i am completely mortified, but then tiny opens his eyes and looks at me with such obvious caring that i have no idea what to do. no one's tried to give me something like this in ages. except for isaac, and he doesn't exist. whatever you might say about tiny, he definitely exists. (10.28-29, 41)

i try to make this musical so it can create something, to show that we all have something to sing—no appreciation, only grief. this musical is a gift, will. my gift to the world. it's not about me. it's about what i have to share. there's a difference—i see it, but i am worried that i am the only frickin' one who sees it. (16.100)