Ed Sheeran Song Quotes

The worst things in life come free to us

You’re going to have people who are going to say ‘Oh, you know like, she just writes songs about her ex-boyfriends’ and I think frankly that’s a very sexist angle to take. No one says that about Ed Sheeran. No one says it about Bruno Mars. They’re all writing songs about their exes, their current girlfriends, their love-life, and no one raises a red flag there.

Photograph’ does not have its moments,” I yelled. “No Ed Sheeran song has moments. I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who thought ‘Photograph’ had moments.

Paper or razor blade, never give up And just remember just to hold out more A couple years ago I couldn't just control that thought You'd find me buskin' on the street When it was cold outdoors And now I'm sweating on the stage With the sold out tours Writing love songs for the sake of it Never to make a hit

After dinner, Graham and I offer to do the dishes. He turns on the radio and we stand at the sink together. I wash and he rinses. He talks about work and I listen. When an Ed Sheeran song starts to play, my hands are covered in soapy suds, but Graham pulls me to him anyway and starts dancing with me. We cling to each other and barely move while we dance—his arms around my waist and mine around his neck. His forehead is pressed to mine and even though I know he’s watching me, I keep my eyes closed and pretend we’re perfect.

Sarah sits up and reaches over, plucking a string on my guitar. It’s propped against the nightstand on her side of the bed. “So . . . do you actually know how to play this thing?” “I do.” She lies down on her side, arm bent, resting her head in her hand, regarding me curiously. “You mean like, ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,’ the ‘ABC’s,’ and such?” I roll my eyes. “You do realize that’s the same song, don’t you?” Her nose scrunches as she thinks about it, and her lips move as she silently sings the tunes in her head. It’s fucking adorable. Then she covers her face and laughs out loud. “Oh my God, I’m an imbecile!” “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, but if you say so.” She narrows her eyes. “Bully.” Then she sticks out her tongue. Big mistake. Because it’s soft and pink and very wet . . . and it makes me want to suck on it. And then that makes me think of other pink, soft, and wet places on her sweet-smelling body . . . and then I’m hard. Painfully, achingly hard. Thank God for thick bedcovers. If this innocent, blushing bird realized there was a hot, hard, raging boner in her bed, mere inches away from her, she would either pass out from all the blood rushing to her cheeks or hit the ceiling in shock—clinging to it by her fingernails like a petrified cat over water. “Well, you learn something new every day.” She chuckles. “But you really know how to play the guitar?” “You sound doubtful.” She shrugs. “A lot has been written about you, but I’ve never once heard that you play an instrument.” I lean in close and whisper, “It’s a secret. I’m good at a lot of things that no one knows about.” Her eyes roll again. “Let me guess—you’re fantastic in bed . . . but everybody knows that.” Then she makes like she’s playing the drums and does the sound effects for the punch-line rim shot. “Ba dumb ba, chhhh.” And I laugh hard—almost as hard as my cock is. “Shy, clever, a naughty sense of humor, and a total nutter. That’s a damn strange combo, Titebottum.” “Wait till you get to know me—I’m definitely one of a kind.” The funny thing is, I’m starting to think that’s absolutely true. I rub my hands together, then gesture to the guitar. “Anyway, pass it here. And name a musician. Any musician.” “Umm . . . Ed Sheeran.” I shake my head. “All the girls love Ed Sheeran.” “He’s a great singer. And he has the whole ginger thing going for him,” she teases. “If you were born a prince with red hair? Women everywhere would adore you.” “Women everywhere already adore me.” “If you were a ginger prince, there’d be more.” “All right, hush now smartarse-bottum. And listen.” Then I play “Thinking Out Loud.” About halfway through, I glance over at Sarah. She has the most beautiful smile, and I think something to myself that I’ve never thought in all my twenty-five years: this is how it feels to be Ed Sheeran.

As we walk on, I hear the soft sound of Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud” start to play from the speakers outside a restaurant just across the street where people are sitting out front, dining in the beautiful evening. “I love this song,” I murmur. Bringing me to a stop, Carrick says, “Dance with me?” I glance around. “Uh, here?” “Yeah, here. I want to dance with my girl under the stars.” He gestures to the bright night sky. Then, he twirls me in his arms, so I’m facing him. Moving his arm from my shoulder to my waist, his free hand takes my hand. “You want to dance right here in the street, next to a litter bin?” I toss a glance in the bin’s direction. He slides a glance at it, a grin sliding onto his face. “You can’t deny the romance of what a bin can bring to a situation.

What song is this? I haven’t heard it.” “‘Thinking Out Loud’ by Ed Sheeran.

Songs that felt like Wyatt: “Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls “A Murder of One” by Counting Crows “Take It Easy on Me” by Little River Band “Hold You in My Arms” by Ray LaMontagne “Wild Horses” by The Rolling Stones “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran “Yellow” by Coldplay Songs that took me to the beach: “Watermelon Sugar” by Harry Styles “Sunshine on My Shoulders” by John Denver “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” by The Beach Boys Songs to make Sam cry: “Who Knew” by Pink “Wrecking Ball” by Miley Cyrus “1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back” by Olivia Rodrigo “So Far Away” by Carole King “Romeo and Juliet” by Dire Straits “Stay” by Rihanna “Sam, I Am” by Missy McGee

Ed Sheeran

I had often envisioned my funeral—me lying against the rose-colored satin, looking utterly stunning, U2’ s and Ed Sheeran’s sadder songs playing gently in the background while my friends wept and laughed over their precious memories of me.

Playlist Theme Song: Chris Isaak- Wicked Game (Jessie Villa Cover) Ed Sheeran- Bad Habits Billie Eilish- NDA Billie Eilish- idontwannabeyouanymore Sasha Sloan- Runaway The Neighbourhood- Sweater Weather Croosh (feat. IV)- Lost Seether- Words as Weapons Hemming- Hard on Myself OneRepublic (feat. Timbaland)- Apologize Righteous Vendetta- A Way Out Transviolet- Under Lana Del Rey- Born to Die nothing,nowhere- rejecter Emawk (feat. solace)- Pilot MAALA- Better Life Frank Ocean- Lost Glass Animals- Heat Waves  Johnny Rain- Harveston Lake Seether (feat. Amy Lee)- Broken KALLITECHNIS- Synergy

Gabby’s theme Song: “Bloodstream” by Ed Sheeran Lucas’ theme Song: “Making Love out of Nothing at All” by Air Supply Karen and her family’s theme song: “Photograph” by Ed Sheeran Killer’s theme songs: “Bandito” by Twenty One Pilots and “I Don’t Care Anymore” by HELLYEAH. Other important songs I basically play on repeat as I work: “Neon Gravestones” by Twenty One Pilots  “Heathens” by Twenty One Pilots “Getting Away With It” by James “The Girl You Think I Am” by Carrie Underwood “Waiting for the Miracle” by Leonard Cohen “You Want it Darker” by Leonard Cohen

Michael and Sarah Dupré danced their first dance not to a Taylor Swift song but to the band’s rendition of Ed Sheeran’s “Hearts Don’t Break Around Here.

My first blog post sucked. My next blog post sucked. I have written dozens and dozens of sucky blog posts, and I can only hope that I will continue to do work that sucks until the day I die. Because it’s in the process of doing that bad work that the good work comes out. Singer-songwriter Ed Sheeran said that he writes four or five songs a day when he’s working on an album. He says, “if you turn a dirty tap on it’s going to flow shit water for a substantial amount of time, and then clean water’s going to start flowing.” Hemingway had a similar philosophy. He said, “I write one page of masterpiece to ninety-one pages of shit.