Top 70 C.G. Drews Quotes (2026 Update)

1. “Sharing music is personal because music speaks, it feels, it breathes. And it always says something about you.”

— C.G. Drews

2. “The world is a broken mirror, each shard reflecting his terrified face.”

— C.G. Drews

3. “Music is nothing unless it fills your soul with colour and passion and dreams.”

— C.G. Drews

4. “She is the sun and her eyes burn stars.”

— C.G. Drews

5. “If he stretches to care about something else – like what the Maestro thinks of him or how he fails at school or what he really wants to do with his life – he’ll be pulled too thin. His skin will part like old paper and the world will see how his skeleton is made of dark wishes and macabre dreams. They’ll know his heart thumps to the beat of the Maestro’s metronome because it’s too scared to do otherwise. But worst? They’ll see the emptiness inside him.”

— C.G. Drews

6. “You are worth more than a thousand perfect notes.”

— C.G. Drews

7. “He’s officially taken house burglary to the next level. Forget stealing a bed, a key, a home for the night. He’s stealing families and their Sunday lunches.”

— C.G. Drews

8. “If people cut him open, they’d never accuse him of being empty.”

— C.G. Drews

9. “He can’t be an invisible boy when she can see him. He can’t steal houses or the girl inside them, but he can build a bridge of moons and caramel cakes to get back to her.”

— C.G. Drews

10. “People understand a cute seven-year-old boy screaming on the floor because he’s autistic. They call the police when that screaming little boy becomes seventeen.”

— C.G. Drews

11. “He doesn’t look back. But he hopes her smile returns when he’s gone, because it’s a cruel person who steals smiles.”

— C.G. Drews

12. “He’s so empty. They tried to stitch him back together, but too much already fell out. Stars and buttons and caramel truffles.”

— C.G. Drews

13. “Beck closes his eyes. Forgets. Zones out so far he reaches the place deep inside where his own music lies. Little notes clamouring to be free. His own notes. His own creations. His fingers tap a tattoo against his other clammy palm. If people cut him open, they’d never accuse him of being empty. He’s not a shell of a pianist – he’s a composer. Cut his chest and see his heart beat with a song all his own.”

— C.G. Drews

14. “Chocolate is a substance worth existing for.”

— C.G. Drews

15. “He floods the house with music that shook the world a hundred years ago. His fingers knot over complicated patterns and his thumbs fail when he needs them most. But, the Maestro’s wrath aside, he owes it to the music to find perfection.”

— C.G. Drews

16. “But the notes inside him roil and break and press so hard against his skin they’ll rip the seams and he’ll burst and – maybe they’ll call him empty after all. Maybe no one can see his music, his own music, but him.”

— C.G. Drews

17. “If he smiles, they might think he’s friendly, and then what?”

— C.G. Drews

18. “This was what Andrew did – told stories. Ones with dark, bitter corners and magic curled into thorns. Ones about monsters with elegant, razor-like teeth. He wrote fairy tales, but cruel. Thomas loved them.”

— C.G. Drews

19. “He hates how innocent her face is, how her lps are twisted in a quiet smile, how her breath puffs in globes of cold white. He hates it because she is hope and tomorrow and he is goodbye and the end.”

— C.G. Drews

20. “But all Andrew could think was if he could crack open Thomas’s ribs right then and fit his whole self inside him, he would.”

— C.G. Drews

21. “If he could dig fingernails into the sides of Laurie’s face and peel back the mask, he would. He would core him like a pear and throw away the soft, rotted skin until he saw him as he really is: horrible and beautiful and real.”

— C.G. Drews

22. “I’m scared of everything except the dark.”

— C.G. Drews

23. “For a vicious moment, Andrew thought about slipping his fingers into Thomas’s cut. Taking hold of his rib and breaking it. Pulling the soft crumbling bone from his chest and sewing it into his own. They’d be forever together, rib against rib, fused in gore and bone and adoration.”

— C.G. Drews

24. “Words have always sat like dead moths and dried flowers in his mouth, unheard because no one is ever interested in what he has to say. He is not clever; he is not poetry. He is just a boy who speaks too bluntly when what he wants most is to figure out which pretty, magical words will finally make him understood.”

— C.G. Drews

25. “All he says, his voice soft and reverent and broken all the way through, is, “God was stronger than me when he made Adam and didn’t fall in love with him.”

— C.G. Drews

26. “They are the kings between nowhere and the end of the world, both of them made of broken edges so sharp that anyone who touches them will be cut. They are all each other has. And it’s not enough.”

— C.G. Drews

27. “For those who have been made to feel monstrous.”

— C.G. Drews

28. “He wouldn’t be kissable. He’s piano keys and crumpled music trapped in his soul. Not kissable. Kickable.”

— C.G. Drews

29. “Here was a boy who made monsters, or perhaps was a monster himself. All because he couldn’t face the fact, the guilt, the sorrow, the rage, of his sister being dead.”

— C.G. Drews

30. “He wishes he wasn’t like this, wishes he could stand even parallel to normal and be someone who fits next to those his age, who goes to school and kisses an appropriate amount of pretty people and isn’t bothered by things like an odd seam in his clothes or the very existence of socks. He wishes his brain moved in one direction, not a dozen all at the same time, and that he didn’t pull apart in a panic if even one thing goes wrong.”

— C.G. Drews

31. “It’s like being beaten – but with hope instead of fists.”

— C.G. Drews

32. “Life didn’t fit against his skin and it never had and sometimes everything was just too much.”

— C.G. Drews

33. “If he were a piano, all his strings would have snapped.”

— C.G. Drews

34. “He needed Thomas, needed their lungs sewn inside each other so he could remember how to breathe. He needed to take words from Thomas’s mouth and put them in his own so he had something to say.”

— C.G. Drews

35. “He tries, but somehow even trying means he’s failed.”

— C.G. Drews

36. “They could be so beautiful to each other. They could be so cruel.”

— C.G. Drews

37. “She held two of the frosted cookies decorated with snowflakes so detailed they looked like they’d fallen fresh from the sky. He accepted one because he didn’t know how to say There’s a forest growing in my stomach, so I’m never hungry.”

— C.G. Drews

38. “You could cut me open and devour everything I am,” Thomas said, ragged and thin. “I would let you. I’d ask you to.”

— C.G. Drews

39. “You look nice. Shall we frolic to our dinner of torment?”

— C.G. Drews

40. “Thomas went off on a rant about how math was offensive, or how he belonged to the forest like some sort of fae child who planned to run away to the trees and never look back.”

— C.G. Drews

41. “I don’t care how dark the world is for you. I’ll hold out my hand until you find it, and I won’t let go.”

— C.G. Drews

42. “Agreement is on the tip of Evander’s tongue, because his reward for compliance is always a fond smile.”

— C.G. Drews

43. “But he didn’t know what part of himself was safe to hold on to.”

— C.G. Drews

44. “He wishes they’d realise, though, that you can’t fill the hole of a missing mother by carving each other into pieces.”

— C.G. Drews

45. “He wanted this to stop. He wanted to not be here. In his skin. In his head.”

— C.G. Drews

46. “He leaves the butterflies bleeding over their wings and descends back to the pits of volcanoes and terror. He plays like it’s his last moment on earth. He plays so he feels like crying. And then it’s done. Silence.”

— C.G. Drews

47. “All my stories are about you. They will always be about you.”

— C.G. Drews

48. “Sammy.′ He gasps for breath. ‘I ran all the – way – over here – to rescue you -’ He sucks in a ragged lungful of air. ‘And you’re just kissing – in the sunset? You little jerk.”

— C.G. Drews

49. “Thomas was nothing if not a chronic mess of untucked corners and spills and mussed hair and artwork staining his cuffs.”

— C.G. Drews

50. “I’ll write you an entire symphony if you ask.”

— C.G. Drews