Rick Springfield Quotes

Everything looks better with my eyes closed.

Writing is like having a lover. Sometimes it's wonderful and sometimes it's a pain in the neck.

I fully love and accept you and want to hang out with you and be friends if you’re Christian or Muslim or Jewish or Buddhist or Jedi or love the opposite sex or love the same sex or love Rick Springfield circa 1983.

Guess I’ll never find out what happened between me and Rick Springfield at my senior prom on the moon. Which sucks, because we were just grinding on a zero gravity dance floor, and he was telling me that I was way cuter than Jessie’s girl.

I can’t possibly love them well if I first demand that they be like me in order to receive it. I am a Christian, but I fully love and accept you and want to hang out with you and be friends if you’re Christian or Muslim or Jewish or Buddhist or Jedi or love the opposite sex or love the same sex or love Rick Springfield circa 1983. Not only that: I think the ability to seek out community with people who are different from me makes me a stronger, better version of myself. Trying to be in community with people who don’t look or vote or believe like you do, though sometimes uncomfortable, will help you stretch and grow into the best version of yourself.

I get inspired at different times and in different ways.

PLAYLIST “Addicted to Love” by Robert Palmer “All She Wants to Do Is Dance” by Don Henley “Bad Medicine” by Bon Jovi “The Distance” by Cake “The Girl Gets Around” by Sammy Hagar “Glory Days” by Bruce Springsteen “Guys My Age” by Hey Violet “Hurts So Good” by John Mellencamp “I Love Rock ’n Roll” by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts “I’m on Fire” by Bruce Springsteen “Jessie’s Girl” by Rick Springfield “Pity Party” by Melanie Martinez “Poison” by Alice Cooper “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard “Run to You” by Bryan Adams

He doesn't stop talking for most of the three-hour flight about his time in "'Nam." Finally the conversation slows, and I ask him what he's done since leaving the army. He sums it up in three words: "I'm in insurance." And that's it. That's all he has to say about the following forty years. I think I may be in a similar situation with the whole marriage bit. Three words: "I got married.

I used to be a roller coaster girl" (for Ntozake Shange) I used to be a roller coaster girl 7 times in a row No vertigo in these skinny legs My lipstick bubblegum pink As my panther 10 speed. never kissed Nappy pigtails, no-brand gym shoes White lined yellow short-shorts Scratched up legs pedaling past borders of humus and baba ganoush Masjids and liquor stores City chicken, pepperoni bread and superman ice cream Cones. Yellow black blending with bits of Arabic Islam and Catholicism. My daddy was Jesus My mother was quiet Jayne Kennedy was worshipped by my brother Mark I don’t remember having my own bed before 12. Me and my sister Lisa shared. Sometimes all three Moore girls slept in the Queen. You grow up so close never close enough. I used to be a roller coaster girl Wild child full of flowers and ideas Useless crushes on polish boys in a school full of white girls. Future black swan singing Zeppelin, U2 and Rick Springfield Hoping to be Jessie’s Girl I could outrun my brothers and Everybody else to that reoccurring line I used to be a roller coaster girl Till you told me I was moving too fast Said my rush made your head spin My laughter hurt your ears A scream of happiness A whisper of freedom Pouring out my armpits Sweating up my neck You were always the scared one I kept my eyes open for the entire trip Right before the drop I would brace myself And let that force push my head back into That hard iron seat My arms nearly fell off a few times Still, I kept running back to the line When I was done Same way I kept running back to you I used to be a roller coaster girl I wasn’t scared of mountains or falling Hell, I looked forward to flying and dropping Off this earth and coming back to life every once in a while I found some peace in being out of control allowing my blood to race through my veins for 180 seconds I earned my sometime nicotine pull I buy my own damn drinks & the ocean Still calls my name when it feels my toes Near its shore. I still love roller coasters & you grew up to be Afraid of all girls who cld ride Fearlessly like me.

I told Trent I had to be at work, and then he finally agreed to let me and some of the others go.” Agreed to let her go. Really? “You didn’t think to take Dixie home?” I asked, trying to hide my outrage. Her shoulders stiffened. “I was goin’ to, but Trent said he’d do it.” I really needed to have another talk with Trent. “How many other people were at the party? Who were they?” “About twelve or so.” She took a breath as if gathering her courage. “Monica and Blane Hyde. Rebecca Smelt. Matt Greenwood. And Amelia. Oh, and Rick Springfield.” She paused. “That’s it.” That lined up with the list Dixie had given me. Neither of them had mentioned Nash Jackson. “What about Rick’s cousin?” Her eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Why would Rick’s cousin show up at Trent’s party?” Her tone indicated she was talking about the bald one Amber had mentioned. “Not Herbert. Nash.” “Who’s Nash?” Why had no one heard of this guy? I shook my head. “Rick’s cousin, Nash Jackson, has been hanging around, and no one seems to know who he is. Could he have been there?” She shrugged. “Maybe . . . ? Rick didn’t stay long. He showed up early but left while Dixie was in the bathroom.” “Rick was in the house while Dixie was there?” “He may not have gone in the house. Most of us use the gate at the side of the house. The Dunbars added one of those fancy iron fences a few years back.” “But he could have gone inside.” And if Dixie had left her drink on a counter or table, he would have had access to drug her. But why drug her if he was leaving? So far I had more questions than answers. “Who was still there when you left?” “Amelia. And Gabby and Mark. Wait . . . ,” she said, her eyes widening. “Bruce showed up around the time I was leavin’.” “Bruce Jepper?” He wasn’t on Dixie’s list, but then he wouldn’t have been if he’d arrived after she lost consciousness. “Yeah. He looked pissed and drunk, but

no dark

Each morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most.

Phil Klay’s collection of 21st century war tales resonates in Redeployment (Penguin Press, March). For more commercial debuts, there is Naomi Wood in a cross between The Paris Wife and The Women with Mrs. Hemingway (Penguin, June), while Australian Samantha Hayes tackles turbo-charged domestic suspense in Until You’re Mine (Crown, April), and Shane Kuhn looks at the homicidal side of office work in The Intern’s Handbook (S&S, April). Finally, debut novels from well-known personalities include one by Ruth Reichl, the memoirist and former Gourmet editor-in-chief, moving to fiction for the first time with Delicious! (Random House, May). Musician and former soap opera star Rick Springfield also tries his hand at fiction with Magnificent Vibration (Touchstone, May).

Everyone else—neighbors, friends, parents of friends—is looking at me like I’ve just bitten the head off their pet parakeet and stuck it on the end of my dick.

In the past week, we had battled our way through a pack of wild centaurs in Kansas, faced an angry famine spirit at the World’s Largest Fork in Springfield, Missouri (I did not get a selfie), and outrun a pair of blue Kentucky drakons that chased us several times around Churchill Downs.

I recently read that moving is right up there in stress level and freak-out factor with public speaking and being on a crashing airplane. No wonder my anxiety bucket is approaching capacity.

It's a natural progression, for any country in the world worth living in, that travelers from across the seas bring with them their own magic but slowly erase some of the original identity of the new land they are now a part of. I see it in Australia these days, too. It's not a bad thing; it's just change. Inexorable change.

The Lamanites were originally a white-skinned race that God burned because of their terrible sins, turning them into Negroes,” she offers up.

I am a Christian, but I fully love and accept you and want to hang out with you and be friends if you're Christian or Muslim or Jewish or Buddhist or Jedi or love the opposite sex or love the same sex or love Rick Springfield circa 1983. Not only that: I think that the ability to seek out community with people who are different from me makes me a stronger, better version of myself. Trying to be in community with people who don't look or vote or believe like you do, though sometimes uncomfortable, will help you stretch and grow into the best version of yourself.