Crosby Stills Quotes

I'm not givin' in an inch to fear.

He was a Crosby, Stills and Nash song. He loved the one he was with. He was casual with a capital C.

If I had a choice, I would still choose to remain blind…for when I die, the first face I will ever see will be the face of my blessed Saviour.

No matter how old a person gets, they can still dream. They can still believe in miracles.

The sad thing is, regardless of what children do or say, they’re still your children, and you don’t stop loving them. Yes, there may be occasions when you scream and yell until you’re blue in the face, but even then, you don’t stop loving them.

You do not get to choose the events that come your way nor the sorrows that interrupt your life. They will likely be a surprise to you, catching you off quard and unprepared. You may hold your head in your hands and lament your weak condition and wonder what you ought to do. To suffer, that is common to all. To suffer and still keep your composure, your faith and your smile, that is remarkable. Pain will change you more profoundly than success or good fortune. Suffering shapes your perception of life, your values and priorities, and your goals and dreams. Your pain is changing you.

His arms tightened around my back. His mouth and nose pressed against the crown of my head, and inside, a mournful Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young cover picked up, guitar twanging like its strings were crying. Gus rocked me side to side. “I want to know you,” I told him. “I want that,” he murmured into my hair.

David Bowie could not only sing, he could also not act, and appeared in several films, playing the homesick alien title character in E.T., and a sort of Duran Duran fairy king in the family film Muppets Vs The Goblin Crotch. He even took over Christmas, singing a special carol with Bing Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, who’d forgotten the words, and being at the start of that cartoon about the snowman sometimes.

It was true that he was weary after having spent the last seven days traveling from Kent to the shadowed edges of the Exmoor Forest. It was also true that the wilds of Somerset and Cornwall were said to breed wraiths and other netherworld creatures, and Dunster was right in the middle of dark and mysterious lands. But being a man of logic, Sir Gart Forbes wasn’t one to believe in ghosts or phantoms or fairies. Still, he wasn’t quite sure what he had seen.

When Devlin returned to the Police Camp early the next morning Anna Wetherell was still unconscious; her head had lolled sideways, and her mouth was slightly agape. There was a bluish-purple bruise upon her temple, and her cheekbone was painfully swollen: had she fallen, or had she been struck? Devlin had no time to investigate, however, or to press the gaoler for more information on the circumstances of the girl’s arrest: it transpired that a man had died during the night, and Devlin was requested to accompany the physician to the Arahura Valley to assist in the collection of the dead man’s remains—and perhaps also to say a prayer or two over his body. The dead man’s name, Shepard informed him, was Crosbie Wells.

I’ve repeated this process with virtually every major classic-rock artist and band that I love. I am now fully versed in the postsixties work of the Kinks, even the double-album rock operas that go on for forty-two hours. I enjoy at least one Doors album, An American Prayer, that was completed and released seven years after Jim Morrison died. I will defend not only both Page & Plant albums, but also the Page & Coverdale record. I own albums by every iteration of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, and will argue that Crosby & Nash is in fact better than CSNY (though not CSN). I’m still not crazy about nineties Springsteen, but I will listen to Human Touch and Lucky Town when I don’t feel like playing Darkness on the Edge of Town or The River for the ten thousandth time. Come to think of it, Lucky Town is in fact much better than most people (even myself) give it credit for.

Crosby, Stills and Nash songs, Teach Your Children: Don't you ever ask them why, if they told you, you would cry, so just look at them and sigh, and know they love you. 

A man's a man who looks a man right between the eyes.

Experiencing Christ’s Love For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39 NKJV How much does Christ love us? More than we, as mere mortals, can comprehend. His love is perfect and steadfast. Even though we are fallible and wayward, the Good Shepherd cares for us still. Even though we have fallen far short of the Father’s commandments, Christ loves us with a power and depth that are beyond our understanding. The sacrifice that Jesus made upon the cross was made for each of us, and His love endures to the edge of eternity and beyond. Christ is the ultimate Savior of mankind and the personal Savior of those who believe in Him. As His servants, we should place Him at the very center of our lives. And, every day that God gives us breath, we should share Christ’s love and His message with a world that needs both. Christ’s love changes everything. When you accept His gift of grace, you are transformed, not only for today, but also for all eternity. If you haven’t already done so, accept Jesus Christ as your Savior. He’s waiting patiently for you to invite Him into your heart. Please don’t make Him wait a single minute longer. It is when we come to the Lord in our nothingness, our powerlessness and our helplessness that He then enables us to love in a way which, without Him, would be absolutely impossible. Elisabeth Elliot The love of Christ is a fierce thing. It can take the picture you have of yourself and burn it in the fire of His loving eyes, replacing it with a true masterpiece. Sheila Walsh Live your lives in love, the same sort of love which Christ gives us, and which He perfectly expressed when He gave Himself as a sacrifice to God. Corrie ten Boom Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine! O what a foretaste of glory divine! Fanny Crosby Christ is with us, and the warmth is contagious. Joni Eareckson Tada To a world that was spiritually dry and populated with parched lives scorched by sin, Jesus was the Living Water who would quench the thirsty soul, saving it from “bondage” and filling it with satisfaction and joy and

Pilgrims WHEN MY OLD MAN said he’d hired her, I said, “A girl?” A girl, when it wasn’t that long ago women couldn’t work on this ranch even as cooks, because the wranglers got shot over them too much. They got shot even over the ugly cooks. Even over the old ones. I said, “A girl?” “She’s from Pennsylvania,” my old man said. “She’ll be good at this.” “She’s from what?” When my brother Crosby found out, he said, “Time for me to find new work when a girl starts doing mine.” My old man looked at him. “I heard you haven’t come over Dutch Oven Pass once this season you haven’t been asleep on your horse or reading a goddamn book. Maybe it’s time for you to find new work anyhow.” He told us that she showed up somehow from Pennsylvania in the sorriest piece of shit car he’d ever seen in his life. She asked him for five minutes to ask for a job, but it didn’t take that long. She flexed her arm for him to feel, but he didn’t feel it. He liked her, he said, right away. He trusted his eye for that, he said, after all these years. “You’ll like her, too,” he said. “She’s sexy like a horse is sexy. Nice and big. Strong.” “Eighty-five of your own horses to feed, and you still think horse is sexy,” I said, and my brother Crosby said, “I think we got enough of that kind of sexy around here already.” She was Martha Knox, nineteen years old and tall as me, thick-legged but not fat, with cowboy boots that anyone could see were new that week, the cheapest in the store and the first pair she’d ever owned. She had a big chin that worked only because her forehead and nose worked, too, and she had the kind of teeth that take over a face even when the mouth is closed. She had, most of all, a dark brown braid that hung down the center of her back, thick as a girl’s arm. I danced with Martha Knox one night early in the season. It was a day off to go down the mountain, get drunk, make phone calls, do laundry, fight. Martha Knox was no dancer. She didn’t want to dance with me. She let me know this by saying a few times that she wasn’t going to dance with me, and then, when she finally agreed, she wouldn’t let go of her cigarette. She held it in one hand and let that hand fall and not be available. So I kept my beer bottle in one hand, to balance her out, and we held each other with one arm each. She was no dancer and she didn’t want to dance with me, but we found a good slow sway anyway, each of us with an arm hanging down, like a rodeo cowboy’s right arm, like the right arm of a bull rider, not reaching for anything. She wouldn’t look anywhere but over my left shoulder, like that part of her that was a good dancer with me was some part she had not ever met and didn’t feel

As he turns the vehicle off and parks, in my head I can still hear Bruce Springsteen singing about fast cars and pretty girls, and running away from everything. I smile and think about how the music makes me feel,

Time is a long long long time before the dawn - Crosby, Stills & Nash

The U.S. Patent Office issued him a patent No. 3,809,978. Although he approached many concerns for marketing, no one really seemed to be interested.  To this day, his unique system is still not on the market. In the 1970's, an inventor used an Ev Gray generator, which intensified battery current, the voltage being induced to the field coils by a very simple programmer (sequencer).  By allowing the motor to charge separate batteries as the device ran, phenomenally tiny currents were needed.  The device was tested at the Crosby Research Institute of Beverly Hills California; a 10 horsepower EMA motor ran for over a week (9 days) on four standard automobile batteries.  The inventors estimated that a 50 horsepower electric motor could traverse 300 miles at 50 M.P.H. before needing a re charge.

My dad is not one to sue. He makes hummingbird nectar by the pitcher in the fridge and refills the feeders every weekend. Whenever I said the word "hate" growing up, he said, "Be careful, hate's a powerful word." He's the one who will clap for the man playing clarinet in the street. Summer afternoons he cooks risotto while singing along to Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. But I heard a new register of rage in his voice, like he would tear the whole place down if I just said the word.

The Lee Shore" Wheel gull spin and glide ... you've got no place to hide 'Cause you don't need one All along the lee shore shells lie scattered in the sand Winking up like shining eyes at me, from the sea Here is one like sunrise older than you know It's still lying there where some careless wave Forgot it long ago When I awoke this morning Dove beneath my floating home Down below her graceful side In the turning tide To watch the sea fish roam And there I heard a story From the sailors of the Sandra Marie There's another island a day's run away from here It's empty and free From here to Venezuela nothing more to see Than a hundred thousand islands Flung like jewels upon the sea For you and me Sunset smells of dinner Women are calling at me to end my tales But perhaps I'll see you the next quiet place I furl my sails 4 Way Street (1971)

Hark! the music of the angels Floating onward still we hear; Blessed music, sweetest chorus Ever sung to mortal ear. -Fanny Crosby, “Music of the Angels

So if you go from the hippie thing to more of a Gatsby community, so what? Life is short and you have an opportunity to explore as much of it as fortune and time allow.

Most of the theaters in Jersey City and the surrounding area have been closed, demolished, renovated or restored, but nothing remained the same. The Stanley Theatre still stands in Journal Square, completely restored as a Jehovah’s Witnesses Assembly Hall. Originally built as a vaudeville and movie theater, having 4,300 seats, it opened on March 22, 1928 as the second largest theater in the United States. With only Radio City Music Hall in Manhattan across the Hudson River being larger, many celebrities attended the gala occasion. The well liked but notorious Mayor Hague was present to cut the ribbon. Famous and not-so-famous headline acts performed here, including the Three Stooges, Jimmy Durante, Tony Bennett and Janis Joplin. It was here at the Stanley Theatre that Frank Sinatra was inspired to become a professional performer. Being part of the audience, he watched Bing Crosby doing a Christmas performance. By the time the show was over, Sinatra had decided on the path he would follow. In 1933 Frank’s mother got him together with a group called the “Three Flashes.” They changed their name to the “Hoboken Four” and won first prize performing on the Major Bowes Amateur Hour show. Frank worked locally until June of 1939, when Harry James hired him for a one-year contract, paying only $75 a week. That December, Sinatra joined Tommy Dorsey’s band as a replacement vocalist for Jack Leonard, and the rest is history!

Robert Graves, the poet and British Army officer, was in London, too, still shaky from the German metal he had received in his chest and thigh the year before. His mother-in-law contracted influenza, but deceived her physician in order to make the rounds of the latest London plays with her son, Tony, on leave from France. She died July 13: “her chief feeling was one of pleasure that Tony had got his leave prolonged on her account.” On the day she died, Grave’s friend and fellow poet, Sigfried Sassoon, who had been shot through the throat in 1917, was shot through the head while on patrol in No-Man’s-Land. He recovered. Tony was killed two months later.27 Yes, the war was much more engrossing than Spanish flu.

But still...she was grateful that Madison was happy. That was all that a mother could really hope for—that the child she had carried, raised, and loved more than life itself, would be happy. There was nothing quite like the pain of seeing your child hurting. She was glad that Madison was no longer hurting.  Louise

yearned so much to spill her heart... to someone... to reveal every dark part of herself and every flaw, to be unveiled in the light of day... and to still be loved despite her flaws.

Asylum Records became a power base for David Geffen, with one of the best artist rosters in the business. It became the home label for what was to be known as the California sound. Elliot continued running the management company, most of whose artists recorded on Asylum, whose corporate philosophy was “benevolent protectionism.” The record company was different from other labels and was proud of its noninterference with the private and artistic lives of its artists, who in turn looked to David Geffen and company to insulate and protect them from the shocks and insults of commercially oriented sales and marketing types, aggressive promotion men, and demanding producers. The opening lineup at Asylum included Jackson Browne, the Eagles, and Joni Mitchell, with Linda Ronstadt joining shortly after. In 1974, the legendary Bob Dylan would leave Columbia and release two Top 10 albums with the company before returning to his original label. That didn’t matter to David. Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young were Atlantic artists and they were doing quite nicely, thank you very much. Besides,

John Coltrane, still playing at top intensity and volume, totally into it. He blew me out so bad I slid down the wall. The guy was still playing his solo. He hadn’t stopped. I don’t think he ever knew that I was in that room. He never saw that little ofay kid in the corner, you know, but he totally turned my mind to Jell-O at that point and that was my John Coltrane experience.

Things were going well. I managed to make offhand yet erudite remarks about Crosby, Stills & Nash, no matter how unrelated to the topic at hand.

Normally, an album with Crazy Horse would have meant a tour with them, but much to the surprise of Jeff Blackburn and his band members (former Moby Grape bassist Bob Mosley and drummer Johnny Craviotto), Young began rehearsing with them instead. In early July, the newly renamed Ducks, after a duck’s landing they saw in town, played its first shows—in local bars in Santa Cruz. In what the Santa Cruz Sentinel called “the worst-kept secret in town,” the Ducks would drive to a club and ask the opening act for their slot (“They were fine—they knew they couldn’t draw what we could,” says Mosley). Charging only a few dollars for admission, they would tear through sets of songs by Young and by Blackburn. Young debuted new material like “Sail Away” and “Comes a Time” in more electrified versions than were later heard on record. “It was unfathomable,” recalls Mosley. “Some of the guitar solos took me into outer space. It was incredible shit.” Starting in mid-July and ending around Labor Day, the Ducks would play more than twenty

AT LEAST FOR the immediate future, there would be no arenas in Young’s life—just the opposite, in fact. Returning to California, he reached out to Mazzeo, who had moved onto a communal farm in Santa Cruz with his guitarist friend Jeff Blackburn. A beach town roughly seventy miles south of San Francisco, Santa Cruz had a population of just over thirty thousand—a size that would have fit into one of the venues on Crosby, Stills and Nash’s reunion tour. Young told Mazzeo he didn’t want to be alone on his ranch. “There were still a lot of Carrie vibes there,” says Mazzeo. Mazzeo invited him over, and Young made himself at home on the farm. Blackburn had been playing local clubs with his eponymous band, and Young was fascinated. “I said, ‘Buck has

AT LEAST FOR the immediate future, there would be no arenas in Young’s life—just the opposite, in fact. Returning to California, he reached out to Mazzeo, who had moved onto a communal farm in Santa Cruz with his guitarist friend Jeff Blackburn. A beach town roughly seventy miles south of San Francisco, Santa Cruz had a population of just over thirty thousand—a size that would have fit into one of the venues on Crosby, Stills and Nash’s reunion tour.

Young told Mazzeo he didn’t want to be alone on his ranch. “There were still a lot of Carrie vibes there,” says Mazzeo. Mazzeo invited him over, and Young made himself at home on the farm. Blackburn had been playing local clubs with his eponymous band, and Young was fascinated. “I said, ‘Buck has

Well, Chum, the poor man’s Bing Crosby is still making with the throat here in Chi. but if the present good fortune keeps up I ought to be getting the New York break pretty soon.

Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis Jr. The cool kids of the 1960s invited the old man who had been cool before they knew cool was cool to join them in a musical romp that nobody took particularly seriously. Crosby enjoys himself. He has nothing at stake, since he’s not the star who has to carry the film. He’s very casual, and appears to be ad-libbing all his lines in the old Road tradition with a touch of W. C. Fields’s colorful vocabulary thrown in: “You gentlemen find my raiment repulsive?” he asks Sinatra and Martin when they object to his character’s lack of chic flash in clothing. Crosby plays a clever con man who disguises himself as square, and his outfits reflect a conservative vibe in the eyes of the cats who are looking him over. The inquiry leads into a number, “Style,” in which Sinatra and Martin put Crosby behind closet doors for a series of humorous outfit changes, to try to spruce him up. Crosby comes out in a plaid suit with knickers and then in yellow pants and an orange-striped shirt. Martin and Sinatra keep on singing—and hoping—while Crosby models a fez. He finally emerges with a straw hat, a cane, and a boutonniere in his tuxedo lapel, looking like a dude. In his own low-key way, taking his spot in the center, right between the other two, Crosby joins in the song and begins to take musical charge. Sinatra is clearly digging Crosby, the older man he always wanted to emulate.*17 Both Sinatra and Martin are perfectly willing to let Crosby be the focus. He’s earned it. He’s the original that the other two wanted to become. He was there when Sinatra and Martin were still kids. He’s Bing Crosby! The three men begin to do a kind of old man’s strut, singing and dancing perfectly together (“…his hat got a little more shiny…”). The audience is looking at the three dominant male singers of the era from 1940 to 1977. They’re having fun, showing everyone exactly not only what makes a pro, not only what makes a star, but what makes a legend. Three great talents, singing and dancing about style, which they’ve all clearly got plenty of: Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, and Dean Martin in Robin and the 7 Hoods

It was 4:00 p.m. Chris would be in his car, she was pretty certain, watching Boss Man pull out of the parking lot. He would wait a few seconds to be certain the man was gone before he started his car, but then thirty seconds later he would be on the road, heading home. At 4:01 p.m. Zoe stood in the living room, the front door easily within reach. There must be something truly wrong with her that she was still standing beneath this roof. Her roof. With forty years’ worth of her life still stashed within