Pj Harvey Quotes

Speak to me of heroin and speed / Of genocide and suicide, of syphilis and greed

Hey! I’m the king o’ the world! You hear my song? Come on, measure me – I’m twenty inches long!

Put money in your idle hole.

Tell you my name F.U.C.K! 50 ft Queenie! Force 10 hurricane. Biggest woman, I could have 10 sons! 10 gods, 10 queens, 10 ft and rising!

It’s hard to walk in the dress, it’s not easy I’m swinging over like a heavy loaded fruit tree

Filthy tight, the dress is filthy I’m falling flat and my arms are empty Clear the way, better get it out of this room A fallen woman in dancing costume

I think the way we are as we get older is a result of what we knew when we were children.

Hit her with a hammer teeth smashed in red tongues twitching look inside a skeleton

My fingers sting where I feel your fingers have been Ghostly fingers moving my limbs Oh god I miss you Oh god I miss you Oh god I miss you Oh god I miss you Oh god I miss you

Water, Walking, Walking on water. Walking, Walking on for years and years and years. Taking it into my head, Living by the right lines, Reading what the very man said. Water, I'm walking, Walking on water, Walking, Walking on. Lying on eleven years, Taking it into my head, Mary, Mary drop me softly. Been reading what your very man said; Lying on eleven years Taking it into my head. Leave my clothes on the beach; I'm walking down into the sea. Prove it to me.

Oh, wind and rain may haunt me, Look to the north and pray. Send me, please, his kisses; Send them home today. I'm begging Jesus, 'Please, Send his love to me!' Left alone in desert, This house becomes a hell, This love becomes a tether, This room becomes a cell. Mummy, Daddy, please, Send him back to me! How long must I suffer? Dear God, I've served my time. This love becomes my torture; This love, my only crime. Oh, lover, please release me. My arms too weak to grip, My eyes too dry for weeping, My lips too dry to kiss. Calling Jesus, 'Please, Send his love to me!

I’d forgotten about them until this very moment, pushed out of my memory from years of dating boys in indie rock bands, boys who scoffed at my love of PJ Harvey, boys who saw my copy of Jagged Little Pill and asked why the fuck was I listening to her, boys who would’ve most certainly ridiculed my love of a cappella. And if they didn’t like my music, they wouldn’t like me, right? Right? If there are any young women reading this and those above sentences sound familiar, if you’re hiding parts of yourself to look cool or make someone love you, please repeat after me: fuck that noise. You are perfect. You matter. Hold on to what you love, the songs and books and style and obsessions and causes and questions that make you you. Find people who love these things, too. When you get lost, they’ll help you find your way back to yourself.

I lost my heart Under the bridge To that little girl – So much to me. And now I moan, And now I holler... She'll never know Just what I found. That blue eyed girl – She said "no more"; That blue eyed girl Became blue eyed whore. Down by the water, I took her hand. Just like my daughter, I'll see her again Oh, help me, Jesus. Come through this storm. I had to lose her To do her harm; I heard her holler, I heard her moan, My lovely daughter... I took her home. Little fish, big fish, swimming in the water, Come back here, man, give me my daughter. Little fish, big fish, swimming in the water. Come back here, man, give me my daughter.

I asked her if she liked PJ Harvey and she said that she liked her old stuff mostly and that Uh Huh Her was pretty good too and then I tried not looking at her for a minute because she was starting to mad own my gaze like in a magnetic way and I didn't want to sweat her too much.

Estoy viendo que ha pasado mucho tiempo desde que me fui Hay ciertas cosas que nunca volverán y no es que me ponga triste es un proceso bastante normal pero sí que hace sentir algo

The more you write The less you'll know

Put money in your idle hole.

Shame is the shadow of love.

Mary and Phil realized that Stuart needed a few more months of “womb service.” But it’s not easy being a walking uterus! Doing everything your uterus did—holding, feeding, nurturing your baby—takes all day long, and you may find yourself still in your pj’s at five P.M.! (Try not to get too self-critical if the house is a mess, emails go unanswered, and dirty dishes pile up.)

...while riot grrrl is part of the punk rock/alternative rock feminism of the 1990s, it's by no means the majority of it. Despite the slogan, not every girl was a riot grrrl, and there's a huge swath of awesome women in '90s music who aren't riot grrrls. In no particular order: L7, Hole, PJ Harvey, Belly, Throwing Muses, Seven Year Bitch, Babes in Toyland, Liz Phair, Bjork, Juliana Hatfield, Gwen Stefani/No Doubt, Shirley Manson/Garbage, the Breeders, Luscious Jackson, Elastica, Sleater-Kinney, and may more women were part of either the alternative or indie rock music scene. Beyond that, the decade was pretty amazing for singer-songwriters like Tori Amos, Sarah McLachlan, Jewel, Fiona Apple, Alanis Morissette, Tracy Chapman, and Melissa Etheridge; for the R&B and hip-hop artists like Salt-n-Peppa, Queen Latifah, TLC, En Vogue, and Missy Elliott; and, at the tail end of the decade, all the pop you could ever want with the Spice Girls, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, and Destiny's Child. So, if you read this book, then run to Spotify to listen to riot grrrl bands, and find they're not for you, remember: there's more than one way to be a girl, and there's more than one kind of music to power you to your goals. What you listen to will never be as important as what you do.

I enjoy looking like a tart. And thinking like a politician.