Stevie Nicks Quotes

I can be going through nothing, but within me, in my head, oh my God! It can be a circus.

Got a head full of lightning, a hat full of rain.

I will sleep no more but arise, You oceans that have been calm within me! how I feel you, fathomless, stirring, preparing unprecedented waves and storms.

One is and is not in the centre of the maelstrom of it all.

There is the churning and the boiling of the sea, and the foam on top of it and that is what man is, churning and foam together.

When you are in the eye of the storm, you are often not aware of the whiplash around you.

I am a restlessness inside a stillness inside a restlessness.

He in his madness prays for storms, and dreams that storms will bring him peace.

The outer storm ceases the moment the inner storm ends, for they are the same storm.

The greatest mania of all is passion: and I am a natural slave to passion: the balance between my brain and my soul and my body is as wild and delicate as the skin of a Ming vase.

But his heart was in a constant, turbulent riot.

Either in conflict with others or in harmony with them, we go through life like a runaway horse, unable to stop.

The human heart is like a ship on a stormy sea driven about by winds blowing from all four corners of heaven.

And it rained a screaming. And it rained a rawness. And it rained a plasma. And it rained a disorder.

Whatever begins to be tranquil is gobbled up by something not tranquil.

My canvas soothes me into forgetfulness of the scene of turmoil and folly - and worse - of the scene around me. Every gleam of sunshine is blighted to me in the art at least. Can it therefore be wondered at that I paint continual storms? "Tempest o'er tempest roll'd" - still the "darkness" is majestic.

A temptation arises: it is the wind. It disturbs you: it is the surging of the seas. This is the time to awaken Christ and let Him remind you of these words

Mud, raised by hurricanes, wells up in the noblest and purest of hearts.

They sicken of the calm who know the storm.

and I circle ten thousand years long; And I still don't know if I'm a falcon, a storm, or an unfinished song

What showers arise, blown with the windy tempest of my heart

I could not help it: the restlessness was in my nature; it agitated me to pain sometimes.

I am overrun, infested with a menagerie of desires.

I’ve been feeling something else. Like I’m about to be sucked into something powerful and painful.