A Quote by Conor Oberst

I find that moving keeps me optimistic, the idea of what's going to be down the road a bit or around the next bend. — © Conor Oberst
I find that moving keeps me optimistic, the idea of what's going to be down the road a bit or around the next bend.
You just have to keep driving down the road. It's going to bend and curve and you'll speed up and slow down, but the road keeps going.
When I left Queen's my future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see along it for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I don't know what lies around the bend, but I'm going to believe that the best does.
Never look down to test the ground before taking your next step; only he who keeps his eye fixed on the far horizon will find the right road.
I'm really just trying to hash out the next two weeks of my life. So, something that is potentially four months down the road is not just a mile down the road for me, it's a million miles down the road.
I'm a little bit of a gypsy myself. I've always had jobs where I'm moving around and I'm not sure what's going to happen tomorrow or the next day.
Bend down, bend down. Excess is the only ease, so bend. The sun is in the tree. Put your mouth on mine. Bend down beam & slash, for Dread is dreamed-up-scenes of what comes after death. Is being fled from what bends down in pain. The elbow bends in the brain, lifts the cup. The worst is yet to dream you up, so bend down the intrigue you dreamed. Flee the hayneedle in the brain's tree. Excess allures by leaps. Stars burn clean. Oriole bitches and gleams. Dread is the fear of being less forever. So bend. Bend down and kiss what you see.
I have no idea what the next project will be and if there's a next project. I don't even know if we're all going to be here tomorrow, but I'm pretty optimistic.
I still take way more jobs than I turn down, and the reason that I turn down a job is that I just can't find anything in it that charges me or excites me or challenges me about moving to the next phase of where I'm headed.
There's no reason to stop. Who knows what's around the bend? To participate, meet new people. It's mostly other musicians and people like you, or anybody I meet who's in this, that keeps me going.
There's this notion that actors choose their career. After a certain level, I think that that's true. I still take way more jobs than I turn down, and the reason that I turn down a job is that I just can't find anything in it that charges me or excites me or challenges me about moving to the next phase of where I'm headed.
I'm constantly looking for new things to do whether that's in the studio, trying to keep production fresh, or it's going out on the road. It's not the best for business. My team sometimes wants to beat me. But that's what keeps it fresh and keeps me inspired.
The road to hell is paved with reasonable religion with a non-anxious god. Most days, I'm pretty happy driving down that road. But I keep running into this Crazy Fellow along the way. At every stop light, he jumps up and down to get my attention. He pounds on my window asking me where the heck I think I'm going. He stands on the front bumper, shouting at me to turn around. When all else fails, he throws himself in front of the car. He's such a drama queen.
I don't need to feel 100% safe, but I have to feel like there's room for me to go a little bit insane if I'm going to have good ideas. Because a good idea is a new idea and if you start going around like, "I have this new idea!" most people are gonna be like, "I've never heard that before, that sounds fishy."
People don't normally change when things are going well. But I want to see what's next and keep moving. That keeps things fresh.
One of the things that's interesting to me is I find things like caffeine and stunts actually relax me. When they're putting a bit of gel on my arm and lighting me on fire, or when I'm about to go into a high-speed car chase or rev a motorcycle up pretty fast, I find everything else around me slows down.
If you take someone's thoughts and feelings away, bit by bit, consistantly, they then have nothing left except some gritty, gnawing, shitty little instinct, down there, somewhere, worming around in the gut, but so far down, so hidden, it's impossible to find.
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