Lupe Fiasco Quotes

There will be a meeting of the great powers who will disagree, and the next noise we hear will be the screeching of elevators going up and down from heaven to hell.

Love is something sent from Heaven to worry the Hell out of you.

All hell broke loose.

The world is on fire.

As soon as the war ended, we located the one spot on earth that hadn't been touched by the war and blew it to hell.

Loves a battlefield it's not a one night stand.

People destroy what they love.

One man puts the fire out, the other lights the fuse.

The fire was silent, the little houses collapsing into the flames without complaint, flocks of sparks rising to the sky. At a distance it seemed beautiful, and I thought it was strange that powerful violence is often so pleasing to the eye.

This is how the fire starts. This is how we burn.

These will be my last moments of peace. . . . From now on, my love. . . will bring nothing but chaos.

I was cold and you were fire, and I never knew how the pyre could be burning on the edge of an ice field.

I come down to the water to cool my eyes. But everywhere I look I see fire; that which isn't flint is tinder, and the whole world sparks and flames.

Nor is heaven always at peace.

Form follows function straight to hell.

And if humanity is the last war, then I am the battlefield.

A thing of orchestrated hell-a terrible symphony of light and flame.

About, about, in reel and rout the death fires danced at night.

If war was hell and only hell and there were no other colors in the palate I don't think people would continue to make war.

His heart, the war. Her face, the battlefield.

A violent order is disorder; and a great disorder is an order. These two things are one.

I mean when was the last time we had one of these contract signings... that didn't end... in some sort of horrible physical calamity? So if you wanna cut to the chase, you know, we can flip the table over, we can all start beating each other up or we can at least make this entertaining.

All I heard was the blood rushing through my ears, and the distant rumble and crackle of the Lake of Fire. (And Khufu scratching himself and grunting, but that was nothing new.)

O war! thou son of Hell!