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Don’t plant your bad days. They grow into weeks. The weeks grow into months. Before you know it, you got yourself a bad year. Take it from me – choke those little bad days. Choke ’em down to nothing.

Tom Waits

Arithmetic arithmetock Turn the hands back on the clock How does the ocean rock the boat? How did the razor find my throat? The only strings that hold me here Are tangled up around the pier.
TOM WAITS

Arithmetic Boat Finding Hands Hold Myself Ocean
I always thought songs are movies for the ears and films are like songs for the eyes.
TOM WAITS

Eyes Movie Song Thinking
The trick is to have a career and have a family. It’s like having two dogs that hate each other and you have to take them for a walk every night.
TOM WAITS

Career Family Night Trick Yourself
If you get far enough away you’ll be on your way back home.
TOM WAITS

Enough Far Home Yourself
Got a head full of lightning, a hat full of rain.
TOM WAITS

Head Rain
When you’re writing‚ you’re conjuring. It’s a ritual‚ and you need to be brave and respectful and sometimes get out of the way of whatever it is that you’re inviting into the room.
TOM WAITS

Brave Conjuring Invitation Room Writing Yourself
I always liked the idea that America is a big facade. We are all insects crawling across on the shiny hood of a Cadillac. We’re all looking at the wrapping. But we won’t tear the wrapping to see what lies beneath.
TOM WAITS

Ideas Insect Lying Myself See
I’ll take a rusty nail and scratch your initials on my arm.
TOM WAITS

Initial Myself Scratch
The world is a hellish place, and bad writing is destroying the quality of our suffering.
TOM WAITS

Bad Destroy Hell Ourselves Place Suffering World Writing
If I exorcise my devils, all my angels may go, too.
TOM WAITS

Angel Devil Myself
Did the devil make the world while God was sleeping?
TOM WAITS

Devil God Sleep World
I admit that I ain’t no angel, I admit that I ain’t no saint – I’m selfish and I’m cruel and I’m blind. If I exorcise my devils, well my angels may leave too. When they leave they’re so hard to find.
TOM WAITS

Angel Blind Finding Hard Myself Selfish
I did my time in the jail of your arms.
TOM WAITS

Arms Time Yourself
We have a deficit of wonder right now.
TOM WAITS

Imagination Right Wonder
When your down on your luck and you’ve lost all your dreams theres nothing like a campfire and a can of beans.
TOM WAITS

Down Dreams Luck Yourself
There’s no prayer like desire.
TOM WAITS

Desire One Liner Prayer
She’s got the whole dark forest living inside of her.
TOM WAITS

Forest Herself Live
Champagne for my real friends and real pain for my sham friends.
TOM WAITS

Friendship Pain Reality
New York forces you to be in endless surreal situations.
TOM WAITS

End Force Surreal Yourself
I like vocal word stuff. But I don’t always write with an instrument, I usually write a capella. It’s more like drawing in the air with your fingers. It’s closest to the choreography of a bee. You’re freer.
TOM WAITS

Fingers Freedom Instrument Myself Vocal Word
I’ve lost my equilibrium, my car keys, and my pride.
TOM WAITS

Balance Car Myself Pride
Most of the people I admire, they usually smell funny and don’t get out much. It’s true. Most of them are either dead or not feeling well.
TOM WAITS

Admire Death Feeling People
On my gravestone, I want it to say, “I told you I was sick.”
TOM WAITS

Funny Grave Myself Sick
I don’t think that you should be perfectly candid and frank about the intimate details of your personal life with the public at large. Subsequently, it creates considerable personal problems.
TOM WAITS

Detail Intimate Myself Perfection Problem Thinking
You have to keep busy. After all, no dog’s ever pissed on a moving car.
TOM WAITS

Busy Car Dog Move Yourself
Living with kids is like living with a bunch of drunks. You know you really have to be on your toes all the time. Things are falling over and breaking and spilling. If you live on the second story, you really have to keep the windows shut all the time.
TOM WAITS

Break Children Fall Live Time Window Yourself
The earth is not my home, I’m just passing by.
TOM WAITS

Earth Home Myself Philosophy Travel Wisdom

Don’t plant your bad days. They grow into weeks. The weeks grow into months. Before you know it, you got yourself a bad year. Take it from me – choke those little bad days. Choke ’em down to nothing.

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Popular Authors

Don’t plant your bad days. They grow into weeks. The weeks grow into months. Before you know it, you got yourself a bad year. Take it from me – choke those little bad days. Choke ’em down to nothing.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More Tom Waits Quotes