Cameron Conaway Quotes

Blood cannot be without dancing. There is no dancing without blood.

The historic beauty of BJJ rests not with its ability to allow a smaller man to maim a larger man, but with its ability to allow any man of any size to survive.

Dew moves mountains.

Fighting and writing's deepest layers of beauty lie not only in the physical and mental realms of what we know, but also as an incognizable instinct, a realm we will never fully know but will forever feel.

Giving up is always an option, but not always a failure.

The whispers inside the red wheelbarrow's dew.

Poets, like fighters, both reap the benefits of roadwork.

It was evening and would be when I woke. No matter. From the maple tree the Red-tail spoke.

How can I stand before you in silent symbols with open palms?

Sweat seems to bleed / like pride from their bones.

Somewhere in the shape sighs take.

I didn't want anybody seeing my fire until I burned them with it.

It's cool when fashion recycles itself, it's not cool when sustainable living does because it means there was (and is as I write) a period of absolute and possibly irreversible destruction.

The illusion of our.

I've learned to fall like the BJJ player, to protect the body through controlling the distribution of force by slapping the mat with hands open. With hands open. Hands open. Open. O Pen.

There was a sound you could smell / like you were inhaling tomorrow.

I should no longer define myself as the son of a father who couldn't or hasn't or wouldn't or wasn't.

Stories do not change, only the lives they live in do.

If pain is a pot of boiling water, humor can be the rising steam.

So much of control is not authoritative action but mindful waiting.

The weight of wait.

The dust of my dreams swim spiced incense smoke.

Feed peace not fear, make spoon not war.

A counter to a jab is a left hook. What's the counter to prejudice?

Unreality cooled reality's burn.

We were of thirteen minds, like a tree, in which there is one Red-tail and eleven squirrel parts.

My next fight would not be measured in rounds, but throughout a lifetime. It would sustain and fulfill me longer than anything in the cage could. My opponent, my fight, would be against the slipping aspects of American society.

Concrete breathes sun's heat.

Don't settle, but settle.

Fights begin and end with handshakes.

Like forearm veins, my interests spread in different directions and eventually led to the hands, to writing.

A poet could kill the dead.

What's not there is.

In The Land of Poetry and Fighting, Efficiency rules the throne. I try to live here, so I shave my head because hair is dead and dead is inefficient.

The more inhuman we became the more we understood each other as humans.