Mick Fleetwood Quotes

A lot of people say I wouldn't have a down day, but you look at the music and there's real melancholy.

It takes a level of creative depression to hear 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' and weep.

My song-writing has always been just about my life - usually my worst moments.

'Downward Spiral' felt like I had an unending bottomless pit of rage and self-loathing inside me and I had to somehow challenge something or I'd explode. I thought I could get through by putting everything into my music, standing in front of an audience and screaming emotions at them from my guts.

In his life, Charles Dickens was like the rest of us, but maybe more so: another poor and wonderful soul attempting to deal with his and the world's pain and confusion in the best way he knew how.

Musicians have to suffer to a certain degree in order to obtain their outlet.

You must reach inside yourselves where I live like a story, not old, not young laughing at my own sorrow, weeping pearls at weddings, wielding a torch to melt sand into something clear and bright.

The Detective was different. Not that he wasn't a good man; Willie had heard enough about him to understand that he was the kind who didn't like to turn away from another's pain, the kind who couldn't put a pillow over his ears to drown out the cries of strangers. Those scars he had were badges of courage, and Willie knew that there were others hidden beneath his clothes, and still more deep inside, right beneath the skin and down to the soul. No, it was just that whatever goodness was there coexisted with rage and grief and loss.

As artists, we are eternally heartbroken.

Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping... waiting... and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us... guides us. Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love... the clarity of hatred... the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead.

The confusing lesson whipped Frankie's anger into something she had never felt before. It was like an emotional meringue - the airy feeling of loneliness topped with the hard crisp of injustice. Yet its taste was far from sweet.

Poetry might be defined as the clear expression of mixed feelings.

That is the mystery about writing: it comes out of afflictions, out of the gouged times, when the heart is cut open.

I know I get cold, cause I can't leave things well alone. Understand I'm accident prone. Me, I get free every night the moon is mine. But when the morning comes don't say you love me, don't say you need me. I really don't think that's fair.

What's interesting about a person without problems?

...he said, with sort of a little derisive smile, "How can you walk down the street with all this stuff going on inside you?" I said, "I don't know how you can walk down the street with nothing going on inside you.

She's a devil, she's an angel, she's a woman, she's a child. She's a heartache when she leaves you, but she'll leave you with a smile.

I balance things better and don't kill myself so much, but conflict makes me a more interesting actress to watch. The places I go to pull emotions from, I think if you have a perfect, happy life, you just don't have those places. And I want those places. I'm proud of those places.

You've got to be hurt and upset; otherwise you can't think of the really good, penetrating, X-rayish phrases.

Sex problems never are, they are troubles of the heart.

When I look at my life and its secret colors, I feel like bursting into tears.

No temple can still the personal griefs and strifes in the breasts of its visitors.

I don't write about anything I don't love even if that love sometimes gets all screwed up and tormented.

Darkness is a lot of what art is and certainly in our community a lot of it is people sort of wrestling with their demons.