Jonathan Larson Quotes

The heart may freeze, or it can burn. The pain will ease and I can learn. There is no future, there is no past. I live this moment as, my last.

Forget Regret, or life is yours to miss

No day but today.

Forget regret, or life is yours to miss. No other path, no other way, no day but today.

The opposite of war isn't peace, it's creation.

VIVA LA VIE BOHEME!

I'm more of a man then you'll ever be, I'm more of a woman then you'll ever get.

There is no future, there is no past. I live this moment as my last. There's only us. There's only this. Forget regret, or life is yours to miss. No other road. No other way. No day but today. I can't control my destiny. I trust my soul, my only goal is just to be. There's only now, there's only here. Give into love, or live in fear. No other course, no other way. NO DAY but TODAY

Give in to love or live in fear.

I'd be happy to die for a taste of what Angel had. Someone to live for. Unafraid to say I Love You.

No other road, no other way, no day but today.

When you’re dying in America, at the end of the millennium, you’re not alone

but i know blue only blue lonely blue without you

She always said how lucky were to be friends... but it was us baby who were the lucky ones

Just don't let go or you may drown.

What binds the fabric together when the raging, shifting, winds of change keep ripping away?

No Day but today

There is no future, there is no past, I live this moment as my last

In these dangerous times, where it seems that the world is ripping apart at the seams, we all can learn how to survive from those who stare death squarely in the face every day and [we] should reach out to each other and bond as a community, rather than hide from the terrors of life at the end of the millennium.

Measure your life in love.

The tick-tick-booms are softer now. I can barely hear them, and I think if I play loud enough, I can drown them out completely.

It won't work I look before I leap I love margins and discipline I make lists in my sleep Baby what's my sin? Never quit-I follow through I hate mess-but I love you What to do with my impromptu baby

We always just miss New York. I watched it with this neighborhood. When I moved here everyone was mourning SoHo of the seventies, Tribeca of the eighties, and already ringing the death knell for the East Village. Now people romanticize the Alphabet City of Jonathan Larson. We all walk in a cloud of mourning for the New York that just disappeared.

Give in to love, or live in fear

How you do you leave the past behind when it keeps finding ways to get to your heart? It reaches way down deep and tears you up till you're torn apart.

How do you know when it's time to let go?

What does it take To wake up a generation?

And when you're living in America At the end of the millennium You're what you own So I own not a notion I escape and ape content I don't own an emotion - I rent

525,600 minutes, 525,600 moments so dear, 525,600 minutes, how do you measure, measure a year

~No Day, But Today~

Cages or wings, which do you prefer? Ask the birds...

The opposite of war isn't peace; it's creation.

Louder than words Why do we play with fire? Why do we run our finger through the flame? Why do we leave our hand on the stove Although we know we're in for some pain? Oh, why do we refuse to hang a light When the streets are dangerous? Why does it take an accident Before the truth gets through to us? Cages or wings Which do you prefer? Ask the birds Fear or love, baby? Don't say the answer Actions speak louder than words Why should we try to be our best When we can just get by and still gain? Why do we nod our heads Although we know The boss is wrong as rain? Why should we blaze a trail When the well worn path Seems safe and so inviting? How as we travel, can we See the dismay And keep from fighting? Cages or wings? Which do you prefer? Ask the birds Fear or love, baby? Don't say the answer Actions speak louder than words What does it take To wake up a generation? How can you make someone Take off and fly? If we don't wake up And shake up the nation We'll eat the dust of the world Wondering why, why Why do we stay with lovers Who we know, down deep Just aren't right? Why would we rather Put ourselves through Hell Than sleep alone at night? Why do we follow leaders who never lead? Why does it take catastrophe to start a revolution? If we're so free, tell me why? Someone tell me why So many people bleed? Cages or wings? Which do you prefer? Ask the birds Fear or love, baby? Don't say the answer Actions speak louder than Louder than, louder than Louder than, louder than Cages or wings? Which do you prefer? Ask the birds Fear or love baby? Don't say the answer Actions speak louder Louder than, louder than, ooh They speak louder Louder than, louder than, ooh Actions speak louder than

THERE’S SOMEONE tae see you, sir,” Mrs. Larson said, as Jonathan attempted to sit up. “One of your servants, I believe. From Eiloch Hill.” She muttered something about evil spirits and motioned for the man to enter. He

But Larson was also more than even his combined, prolific creative output. While he was known for leaving parties to go home and fix songs, he would also charm the ladies, attend New York’s most exclusive nightclub, and obsessively follow the New York Mets. He was the man who called his friends in the middle of the day to play Frisbee, sent cards on every possible occasion, and hosted generous holiday meals. An awkward introvert who wanted to be a star. A self-confident composer who knew how good his work was - and how terrified he was of never being able to make a living from it. A broke waiter who produced some of the most advanced demo recordings of his day. A ladies’ man who became one of the gay community’s most important straight allies in the 1990s, as his work spread a message of tolerance around the world. A man who composed fun, catchy songs but rarely listened to music for pleasure as an adult. A performer who wanted to be Billy Joel but wrote lyrics like Harry Chapin. A driven creative who took as few shifts as possible to focus on his music, turning poverty into creativity: a simple 4th of July party meant a hand-coloured collage for an invitation, and Larson’s annual Peasant Feast pot-luck meals at Christmas were the season’s highlight for all attending. A passionate progressive who would be endlessly disappointed that RENT could still cause controversy after so many years.

Cages or Wings? - Which do you prefer? Just ask the birds.

December 24, 9pm Eastern Standard Time. From here on in, I shoot without a script. See if anything comes of it, instead of my usual shit.

Why are entire years strewn on the cutting room floor of memory? When single frames of one magic night forever flicker in close up on the 3D Imax of my mind

I've gotta get out of here

Trusting desire, starting to learn Walking through fire without a burn Clinging a shoulder, a leap begins Stinging and older, asleep on pins

I don't own emotion, I rent