Kate Moss Quotes

We are who we are, be­cause of those we choose to love and be­cause of those who love us.

What we leave behind in this life is the memory of who we were and what we did. An imprint, no more.

For when all else is done, on­ly words re­main. Words en­dure.

Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.

I got tired of feeling like Dracula. I wanted to see some daylight, and not just at six o’clock in the morning.

Pas a pas, se va luenh. Step by step, we make our way.

Never complain. Never explain.

Love - true love - is a precious thing. It is painful, uncomfortable, makes fools of us all, but it is what breathes meaning and color and purpose into our lives.

What people say isn't going to stop me. I have to do things for myself.

History is written by the victors, the strongest, the most determined. Truth is found most often in the silence, in the quiet places.

And I shall set this last truth down. We are who we are because of those we choose to love and because of those who love us.

The dead leave their shadows, an echo of the space within which once they lived. They haunt us, never fading or growing older as we do. The loss we grieve is not just their futures but our own.

London is speared by the tube map of fashion zone: zone one is classic-edgy, zone two is edgy-dowdy while the counties do a classic, edgy, dowdy hotch potch - epitomised so beautifully by Kate Moss.

There's no black and no white, just shades of grey...But the small betrayals lead to bigger ones, morality is eroded.

One cannot always marry the person one loves...

Si es atal es atal.

Do you believe you can change your destiny?' he (Sajhë) said, seeking an answer. Alice found herself nodding. 'Otherwise, what's the point? If we are simply walking a path preordained, then all the experiences that make us who we are - love, grief, joy, learning, changing - would count for nothing.

There comes always a moment when the desire to act, however ill the cause, is stronger than the wish to listen.

History is written by the victorious, the liars, the strongest, the most determined.

There is no pattern the human mind can devise that does not exist already within the bounds of nature...Everything we do, see, write, notate, all are an echo of the deep seams of the universe. Music is the invisible world made visible through sound.

Pas a pas se va luenh.

I don't like doing [things] as myself...I like to be made into someone else.

If we do not remember those who have gone before us, we are destined to repeat the same mistakes. We walk blind through time.

What will happen will happen, whether I wish it or no. So, yes, I accept. It does not mean that I like it or wish it were not otherwise.

Who's to say? Life is not, as we are taught, a matter of seeking answers, but rather learning which are the questions we should ask.

we are who we are because of those we we choose to love and because of those who love us

What we attempt to do is not without danger. What we attempt to do may not succeed. But it is right and it is just. We act for the good of all.

Too often I am jealous and my jealousy leads me to say things-things-that I regret.

Life is not, as we are taught, a matter of seeking answers, but rather learning which are the questions we should ask.

Je suis plutôt King Kong que Kate Moss, comme fille. Je suis ce genre de femme qu’on n’épouse pas, avec qui on ne fait pas d’enfant, je parle de ma place de femme toujours trop tout ce qu’elle est, trop agressive, trop bruyante, trop grosse, trop brutale, trop hirsute, toujours trop virile, me dit-on.

You well know that if a lie is repeated often enough, in the face of the clearest evidence to the contrary, even the most level-headed of men start to believe in it. Falsehood easily becomes accepted truth.

I was a scapegoat. The media had to put responsibility on somebody, and I was chosen. They felt free to say that because someone was thin they were anorexic, which is ridiculous.

Music is a personal response to vibration.

Sin embargo, como chica por la que los hombres se interesan poco estoy rabiosa, mientras todos me explican que ni siquiera debería estar ahí. Pero siempre hemos existido. Aunque nunca se habla de nosotras en las novelas de hombres, que sólo imaginan mujeres con las que querrían acostarse. Siempre hemos existido, pero nunca hemos hablado. Incluso hoy que las mujeres publican muchas novelas, raramente encontramos personajes femeninos cuyo aspecto físico sea desagradable o mediocre, incapaces de amar a los hombres o de ser amadas. Por el contrario, a las heroínas de la literatura contemporánea les gustan los hombres, los encuentran fácilmente, se acuestan con ellos en dos capítulos, se corren en cuatro líneas y a todas les gusta el sexo. La figura de la pringada de la feminidad me resulta más que simpática: es esencial. Del mismo modo que la figura del perdedor social, económico o político. Prefiero los que no consiguen lo que quieren, por la buena y simple razón de que yo misma tampoco lo logro. Y porque, en general, el humor y la invención están de nuestro lado. Cuando no se tiene lo que hay que tener para chulearse, se es a menudo más creativo. Yo, como chica, soy más bien King Kong que Kate Moss.

...the bravest act of war is love.

And in the air around her, the echo of all those stifled hearts, trapped spirits, fluttered and sighed and breathed.

It was not how one lived, but how one chose to die.

That sounds like one of those clever things people say that mean precisely nothing!

There was no nobility in war. Only suffering.

The colour of the magpie, her father was saying, was symbolic of creation. The void, the mystery of that which had not yet taken form. Black and white, he said. Presence and absence.

What we leave behind in this life is the memory of who we were and what we did. An imprint, no more. I have learned much. I have become wise. But have I made a difference? I cannot tell.

Kate Moss famously said that “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” So I thought I’d put together a little list of things she’s obviously never tried before that taste so much better than buying into an oppressive body ideal could ever feel: Pasta, pizza, mangoes, avocados, doughnuts, peanut butter, sushi, bacon, chocolate cake, lemon cake, any cake really, blueberries, garlic bread, smoked salmon, poached eggs, apples, roast dinners, cookie dough, sweet potatoes, whipped cream, freshly squeezed orange juice, watermelon, gelato, paella, oh and cheese. You’re welcome, Kate!

Words are our only weapons against the lies of history. We must bear witness to the truth. If we do not, those we love die twice over.’ He paused. ‘I will not find peace until I know how it ended.

Beneath a canopy of moss-wreathed branches, we joined hands and pledged ourselves to one another forever - a kind of forever that burns only in the hearts of those young enough not to know better.

As the final decade of the millennium dawned, there would be no greater expression of the cultural, economic, and social revolutions to come than fashion. What rock 'n' roll was to the '50s, drugs to the '60s, film to the '70s, and modern art to the '80s, fashion was to the '90s: the fuse, then the filter.

Cutouts from fashion magazines were taped to the edges of the mirror over the low vanity and sink: Claudia Schiffer’s Guess Jeans ad. Kate Moss in her Calvins. Runway stick figures. Linda Evangelista. Kate Moss. Kate Moss. Kate Moss.

Dortchen was called the wild one because one day, when she was seven years old, she had got lost in the forest. She had wandered off to a far-distant glade where a willow tree trailed its branches in a pool of water. Dortchen crept within the shadowy tent of its branches and found a green palace. She wove herself a crown of willow tendrils and collected pebbles and flowers to be her jewels. At last, worn out, she lay down on a velvet bed of moss and fell asleep.

Then he says her name. Her real name. The soft music of it hangs suspended in the air between them. Threat or entreaty, she doesn't know, but she feels her resolve weaken. He says it again, this time, it sounds bitter, false in his mouth. A betrayal. The spell is broken. The woman known as Sophie lifts her arm. And shoots.

Aber das hat dich krank gemacht, fuhr sie fort. Nicht sein Tod, sondern das danach.

Wie sehr wollte ich sie vor dem Schmerz des Erinners bewahren.

We are who we are, because of those we choose to love and because of those who love us.

Music (is) woven into the fabric of the corporeal world.

Nahestehende zu überleben erfordert eine besondere Art von Mut, sagte sie leise.

Aber ich wollte nicht genesen, wenn ich dafür das wenige, das mir von meinem Bruder geblieben war, aufgeben musste.

Aber nachdem so viele auf dieselbe Art gebrandmarkt worden waren, wurde es zum Symbol eines guten Charaktern. Ein Ehrenzeichen. Ja.

Ich vermochte kaum den Kopf hochzuhalten. Ich wollte mich befreien, dem Gefängnis meiner Erinnerung entfliehen.

Die derzeitigen und früheren Bewohner von Nulle wussten, wie abgründige Trauer den Geist zerfrisst.

Boots and guns had replaced banners and horses, but the story was the same. Men with black hearts. With black souls.

It seemed wrong, she thought, that there should be such beauty in the world on a day like this.

My self and my other selves, both past and yet to come, were equally present.

The human sprit can withstand much, but once broken, it crumbles like dust

when he had looked into the heart of the labyrinth and made a vow to protect the secret with his life.

History is written by the victorious, the liars, the strongest, the most determined. Truth is found most often in the silence, in the quiet places.

The thinnest shaft of light entered the empty chambers of my heart, just for a moment. Then it disappeared, extinguished by the weight of all that had gone before.

God is greater than anything man can comprehend. He sees all. Forgives all our sins. He expects no more than for us each to do our best to serve Him.

whatever age you are, you will always be his daughter, his little girl. He cannot help but want to protect you. It is the way of things.

The suffering of those we love is harder to bear than anything we feel on our own behalf.

The endars were peaceful creatures. The green fur wasn’t fur at all; it was moss that grew from their skin. They lived underneath old oaks, rooted to the big trees in a state of quiet hibernation, absorbing their nutrients and making rare excursions to the surface to lick the bark and feed on lichens. They stirred from their rest so rarely that pagan Slavs thought they fed on air.

harm can be done by those who proffer an opinion when they are only in partial possession of the facts. A man might do better to hold his tongue than scatter words without a care as to where they might land.

Aber jede noch so kleine Verbesserung meines Zustandes entfernte mich weiter von George, und in Wahrheit war seine Gesellschaft die einzige, nach der mich verlangte. Ich empfand es als Verrat, dass ich lernte ohne ihn zu leben.

At this point trillions of pictures have been taken of Kate Moss in an effort to capture her beauty, style and essence. Yet our appetite for more, more, more rages on unabated. She's paid very well to sell us things that we might previously have had no interest in buying. That's because anything she puts near her body is instantly transformed into the coolest thing ever, because She is the coolest thing ever and nobody can explain why. It's just a fact.

Die Toten hinterlassen ihre Schatten, einen Nachhall des Raumes, den sie einst bewohnten. Sie suchen uns heim, werden nie schwächer oder älter als wir. Wir betrauern nicht nur den Verlust ihrer Zukunft, sondern auch den der unseren.

A small grove of linden trees grew on the far side of the lake, below the palace. Dortchen made her way there carefully, not wanting to be seen so close to the King's residence. The trees were in full blossom, bees reeling drunkenly from the pale-yellow flowers that hung down in clusters below the heart-shaped leaves. Dortchen harvested what she could reach, breathing the sweet scent deeply, then picked handfuls of the wild roses that grew in a tangled hedge along the path. She would crystallise the petals with sugar when she got home, or make rose water to sell in her father's shop. She plucked some dandelions she found growing wild in a clearing, and then some meadowsweet, and at last reached the ancient old oak tree she knew from her last foray into the royal park. Here she found handfuls of the sparse grey moss, and she hid it deep within her basket, beneath the flowers and herbs and leaves.

In meinem Krankenzimmer herrschte ein Kommen und Gehen. Ärzte, die Stationsschwester und ihre Schar von Pflegerinnen in gestärkten Trachten und gummibesohlten Schuhen. Vordergründig schien sich die Geschichte zu wiederholen. Ein Sanatorium in Sussex, ein Krankenhaus in Fois, ein Patient, der mit dem Leben nicht zurechtkam.

Enormous hydrangeas with vibrant pink sponge-like blooms, rhododendrons and impatiens, tall spears of flowering oyster plants jostled together with Jurassic-looking philodendron leaves and tree ferns, a mixed bag all tied by a wild creeper with bell-shaped blue flowers. The damp smell of the garden reminded Jess of places she'd visited in Cornwall, like St. Just in Roseland, where fertile ground spoke of layers of different generations, civilizations past. At last, beyond the tangled greenery, Jess glimpsed the jutting white chimneys of a large roof. She realized she was holding her breath. She turned a final corner, just like Daniel Miller had done on his way to meet Nora, and there it was. Grand and magnificent, yet even from a distance she could see that the house was in a state of disrepair. It was perched upon a stone plinth that rose about a meter off the ground. A clinging ficus with tiny leaves had grown to cover most of the stones and moss stained the rest, so that the house appeared to sit upon an ocean of greenery. Jess was reminded of the houses in fairy tales, hidden and then forgotten, ignored by the human world only to be reclaimed by nature. Protruding from one corner of the plinth was a lion's head, its mouth open to reveal a void from which a stream of spring water must once have flowed. On the ground beneath sat a stone bowl, half-filled with stale rainwater. As Jess watched, a blue-breasted fairy wren flew down to perch upon the edge of the bowl; after observing Jess for a moment, the little bird made a graceful dive across the surface of the water, skimming himself clean before disappearing once more into the folds of the garden.

The windows and doors will be boarded up and the plants allowed to creep over the building. Moss will grow over the platform and, for a while, youths will come and spray paint and smash what they can - I like to think that this is their way of mourning its loss.

L'assolutezza del desiderio costruisce e disfa il mondo, le persone. Desideri e ti senti vivo. Smetti di desiderare e perdita vita. I buddhisti sono convinti del contrario e la Donnagatto, che pure vuole la vita a tutti costi, sa che il desiderio consuma i corpi, li disintegra e li spoglia presto o tardi del valore che ci fa andare oltre la nostra pelle per volere quella altrui. Forse è quello che qualcuno chiama l'usura del tempo o dell’abitudine. Fidati, anche Kate Moss, se tu ce l'avessi a disposizione tutti i giorni, rivelerebbe le sue magagnette, una quantità di imperfezioni, di cose da niente che poi finiscono per diventare insopportabili, mi dice, mentre armeggia quel filo del telefono come se fosse la coda di un felino.

Fiction:  All vampires are beautiful and youthful.  Fact: A Vampire will look like he or she did when they were turned, except that, given the strictly liquid diet, yes they eventually will in time appear unnaturally thin. Think Kate Moss on a diet.

said lightly, once the servant had withdrawn. ‘I should congratulate

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We watched Victoria Beckham shrink into her seat at the World Cup and traced the curves of Kate Moss's thighs in her gold lurex Glastonbury minidress. We swelled with longing as sequins dripped from the narrow shoulders of the Olsen twins and signed with envy as the inky daisies tattooed around Peaches Geldof's stomach squeezed her into a smaller, more angular shape. We watched Alexa Chung form a long black line in her skinny jeans and ogled Cassie from Skins, angel-haired in a green-gold dress, spun out on pills in the dawn.

L’âme d’autrui est une forêt obscure où il faut marcher avec précaution. (The soul of another is a dark forest in which one must tread carefully.)

At the bottom of the meadow, I find the path along the lake. I plunge into the woods and am instantly in a different world, a cohesive world of greens and browns, trees shifting and rustling in the hazy sunlight that filters down through the leaves. The ground is damp and spongy underfoot with pine needles and thick green lichen, rotted fallen logs covered in moss. The rippling sunlit lake to my left reflects sideways so the tree trunks seem to be the narrow screens for a watery, out-of-focus movie.

Ricordate la frase di Kate Moss: "Nulla ha un sapore più buono come sentirsi magre"? Ebbene si sbagliava, il cioccolato è più buono.

It is a tale that begins, as it will end, in a graveyard where the bones and the spiders and the worms inhabit the cold earth.

What Kate wore, whether on the street or the red carpet was much cooler to them than what she modelled. Her paparazzi photos were becoming indistinguishable from her editorials.

Men wielded their video cameras like weapons, recording rather than experiencing...

how his grandfather used to stroke his brow

My leg hair reminds me of wildflower meadows. My head hair is long pond grass. My armpit hair is a hawthorn bush. My pubic hair is wet moss and lichen on a rock.

Courage is a fair-weather friend.

If you take away the mystery of God and reduce everything to the commonplace, you take away much of the beauty in their lives.

It was Harif who’d taught him to see that Saracens, Jews and Christians were following but different paths to the one God.

But, truthfully, I lacked the courage to jump.’ ‘Perhaps it takes more courage not to,’ Sandrine said,

All systems of divination, like music itself, work through patterns.

Love – true love – is a precious thing, Léonie,’ Isolde continued. ‘It is painful, uncomfortable, makes fools of us all, but it is what breathes meaning and colour and purpose into our lives. Love is the one thing that lifts our common experience to the extraordinary.

« Je suis ce que je vois », a dit Alexandre Hollan : en tant que peintre, il est naturel qu’il oriente cette identité dans la direction où se porte son regard ; mais, de la même façon, Kate Moss pourrait atteindre son identité en inversant le sens de circulation et affirmer : « Je suis ce que les autres voient de moi. » L’instrument dans lequel l’être s’affirme reste le même – le regard. En revanche le regard électronique des dispositifs automatiques – innocents par définition – est devenu le réceptacle parfait des plus lourdes responsabilités. Le bombardier de l’aviation américaine Thomas Ferebee, à bord de l’Enola Gay, demanda à ses yeux de lui dire le bon moment pour larguer la bombe atomique sur Hiroshima ; ce sont ses yeux toujours qui virent quelques instants après l’horrible champignon soulevé par l’explosion. Cela signifie qu’il s’immisça. Aujourd’hui les Américains utilisent des bombardiers sans équipage, appelés drones, qui lâchent leurs bombes au commandement de l’algorithme qui les guide. Sans regard direct, personne n’est là pour s’immiscer et ce n’est la faute de personne.

If we do not remember those who have gone before us, we are destined to repeat the same mistakes. We walk blind through

But things were different when she was on her own. She didn’t have to put a brave face on it.

Si es atal es atal. What will be will be.

If she wanted to go,’ Bonnet continued, ‘there’s not a thing you – or anyone else – could have done to stop her. If it’s any consolation, she won’t have suffered. Pills, all very peaceful. Just gone to sleep and not woken up. It’s what she chose.