Rockstar Quotes

And remember, no matter where you go, there you are.

Don't exist. Live. Get out, explore. Thrive. Challenge authority. Challenge yourself. Evolve. Change forever. Become who you say you always will. Keep moving. Don't stop. Start the revolution. Become a freedom fighter. Become a superhero. Just because everyone doesn't know your name doesn't mean you dont matter. Are you happy? Have you ever been happy? What have you done today to matter? Did you exist or did you live? How did you thrive? Become a chameleon-fit in anywhere. Be a rockstar-stand out everywhere. Do nothing, do everything. Forget everything, remember everyone. Care, don't just pretend to. Listen to everyone. Love everyone and nothing at the same time. Its impossible to be everything,but you can't stop trying to do it all. All I know is that I have no idea where I am right now. I feel like I am in training for something, making progress with every step I take. I fear standing still. It is my greatest weakness. I talk big, but often don't follow through. That's my biggest problem. I don't even know what to think right now. It's about time I start to take a jump. Fuck starting to take. Just jump-over everything. Leap. It's time to be aggressive. You've started to speak your mind, now keep going with it, but not with the intention of sparking controversy or picking a germane fight. Get your gloves on, it's time for rebirth. There IS no room for the nice guys in the history books. THIS IS THE START OF A REVOLUTION. THE REVOLUTION IS YOUR LIFE. THE GOAL IS IMMORTALITY. LET'S LIVE, BABY. LET'S FEEL ALIVE AT ALL TIMES. TAKE NO PRISONERS. HOLD NO SOUL UNACCOUNTABLE, ESPECIALLY NOT YOUR OWN. IF SOMETHING DOESN'T HAPPEN, IT'S YOUR FAULT. Make this moment your reckoning. Your head has been held under water for too long and now it is time to rise up and take your first true breath. Do everything with exact calculation, nothing without meaning. Do not make careful your words, but make no excuses for what you say. Fuck em' all. Set a goal for everyday and never be tired.

‎"Was that your plan all along? Show me where to go, then convince me there's nothing I can do to save my sister?" "Actually, my plan all along was to become a rockstar, travel the world collecting fan girls, and then getting really fat and spending the rest of my life playing video games while the girls kept comin', thinking I look good as I did in my music videos." He shrugs as if to say, 'who knew the world would turn out so different?

If money’s the god people worship, I’d rather go worship the devil instead.

Kyle want to be a rockstar. I think hes working the one-name thing. Like Rihanna." "I have no idea what you're talking about.

Fuck me,” I whispered, giving him permission, taking him into my flesh, a soft invitation to madness.

Like a butterfly stuck in a chrysalis, waiting for the perfect moment, I was waiting for the day I could burst forth and fly away and find my home.

Because', she said, 'your problems are not real problems. You're dating two beautiful girls at once. Think about it. That's like...having rock-star problems.' 'Having rock-star problems may be the closest I ever get to being an actual rock star.

My panties were still on but he didn’t let that stop him, nosing them out of the way and tonguing my sex, making low, growling noises in his throat like a big cat purring with pleasure while it devoured its prey.

I know you. Inside and out, Sara. I know you, and I’ve accepted it all. Every bit of the crazy. And I love you anyway remember?

We were a galaxy exploding into a million pieces, creating a whole new world, as we crashed against each other on the soft surface of his mattress, a cloud in the darkness, our bodies finally falling together like rain.

My task is set before me, girl My mission clear and true There’ll be black knights and dragons, girl But I will always come for you…

Sometimes all darkness needs is a little of the right kinda light; I am your light Mischeif." PHOENIX ROCKSTAR - JAN 2013.

The best things in life are crazy.

I looked at him like a stranger, someone I’d never seen before, and he looked at me like I’d been lost to him for a thousand years and finally found.

You learn that the only way to get rock-star power as a girl is to be a groupie and bare your breasts and get chosen for the night. We learn that the only way to get anywhere is through men. And it's a lie.

Every bride is beautiful. It’s like newborn babies or puppies. They can’t help it.

The marks humans leave are too often scars. You build a hideous minimall or start a coup or try to become a rockstar and you think, "They'll remember me now," but (a) they don't remember you, and (b) all you leave behind are more scars. Your coup becomes a dictatorship. Your minimall becomes a lesion.

My knees were weak but he held me with one hand, guiding me with the motion of his hips. I was completely his to do with what he wanted and he knew it.

I don't want you to be my fan. I want you to be mine.

Dreams can change histories and songs can alter destinies.

I don’t get where he gets off thinking he should be able to have his cake and eat it too because news flash, this cake store is fucking closed.--Lane

I don’t know you, not because I didn’t ask the right questions, but because you never trusted me enough to let me in. You’re right about me, I want more. I want all of you.

Adina appealed to the sky. "We asked for rescue and you sent us incompetent rockstar pirates with a broken ship and perfect abs?" "Thank you, God," Petra said.

You, Emily. You're worth fighting for. I fought all my life, but never for anything worthwhile. Now... Now I'm fighting for my heart. Bullshit ends here and now.

Sometimes there’s no cure for the crazy.” Dale sighed, stroking my hair. “I think we all just have to keep loving through it. Maybe that’s the cure.

Fuck the entire world. All that matters is what you think of me.--Noel

Beautiful girl; when I hit on women, they are fucking me in less than five minutes; last time I checked we still have our clothes on.

Nothing is born into this world without labor.

Being a rockstar is the intersection of who you are and who you want to be.

Seriously, what is it about men in jeans and bare feet which is so totally hot?

If you're going to be a fucking rock star go be one. People don't want to see the guy next door on stage; they want to see a being from another planet. You want to see somebody you'd never meet in ordinary life.

He lifted his head, the sight of his dark, disheveled hair, eyes glinting with longing in the lamp light, the gorgeous spread of his shoulders, tapering down to the narrow thrust of his hips, made my ovaries ache deep in my belly.

You think he’s perfect and he’s safe and, in your head, he can do anything... but he can’t save you, Sara... and I can’t save you either.

Yes we do. If I don’t have you soon, I’m going to implode. Can’t you see that? I want you to be with me. I can’t stand all these guys coming on to you. The fact that I’m not allowed to do a God damn thing about it because you’re not mine is killing me.”--Noel

Touching his cock was like eating chips; I couldn't stop after just one.

If life had taught me anything so far, it was that I was responsible for my own fate.

Achieving success is a challenge but so is struggling so you may as well choose success. 


Music is like a psychiatrist. You can tell your guitar things that you can't tell people. And it will answer you with things people can't tell you.

Self-publishing a shitty book doesn't make you an author any more than singing in the shower makes you a rockstar or squeezing your pimple makes you a dermatologist.

But I was done trying to wake her up, to make her see. To save her. The only person I could save was myself.

Când vei găsi drumul tău, vei ști. Te vei simți viu și vei ști. Întotdeauna.

Everyone was going crazy, like they’d just witnessed the birth of Jesus and the invention of electricity at the same time. Jude was a rock star, their savior, and they were paying him homage.

Don’t ever perceive other people’s success as your own failure.

Chase tugged my hips flush against his, and I felt a hard length between us. It was only a bulge against the leather of his pants, but it was enough to get me wetter than a rainforest between my legs.

We fell into each other’s arms and kissed like we were coming up for air after being underwater for days. The melding of our mouths was sweeter than oxygen. We took huge, deep gulps of each other as we struggled with worldly constraints like clothing and gravity, seeking to transcend it all in our coming together.

I’m sure you could distract me with something better than hand holding, sugar.” He winked, then winced and sucked in a breath. “Holy f-f-f-f-fire truck. I think you just stitched my kidney.

A doctor, a logician and a marine biologist had also just arrived, flown in at phenomenal expense from Maximegalon to try to reason with the lead singer who had locked himself in the bathroom with a bottle of pills and was refusing to come out till it could be proved conclusively to him that he wasn't a fish. The bass player was busy machine-gunning his bedroom and the drummer was nowhere on board. Frantic inquiries led to the discovery that he was standing on a beach on Santraginus V over a hundred light years away where, he claimed, he had been happy for over half an hour now and had found a small stone that would be his friend.

You're mine. I knew it the first time I saw you. I will always come for you, Sara. Always.

I want my rockstars dead.

You don't want a tiny diamond on your finger when you can have three carats. You don't want a one-dollar bill when you can have a Benjamin. And you don't want to ride a miniature pony when you can saddle up on a rock-star cock at the rodeo of your pleasure.

Finally, she took him in, all wet and sexy beneath her. Every breath and groan echoed over the water. She alternated her gaze from the stars in heaven to the rock star that was currently her heaven.

Every day for a week, sitting in my idling car, saying goodbye without saying anything at all—the touch of his hand, his forehead pressed to mine, the way he brushed my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. And still, he hadn’t kissed me. Not once. Nothing but that brief brush of his lips. I was beginning to go a little crazy.

Mitch stared at where her hand lay on Blake’s crotch and appreciated that his friend didn’t comment. “Please tell me I don’t have my hand some place inappropriate.” Alana’s voice broke.

You need to fear me, not hate me." I did. I feared him. But I think I hated him more. No, I knew I hated him more. For what he'd done. For what he was doing. For the betrayal. Most of all, for tarnishing something so beautiful and making it ugly. I trusted him. I gave myself to him, and he took me, peeled back layers of my soul until he saw it all. Then he took me.

He looked so beautiful, and it pissed me off that he could look so beautiful when he was so ugly.

Meet me backstage later?” The deep voice whispered along her skin and her body hummed in appreciation. She turned her focus to the eyes shaded under the cap.

If you want to find money, focus on people. If you want to lose people, focus on money.

I decided that in order to become a big famous rock star, I would need to write my very own songs instead of wasting my time learning other peoples music too much. It may act as an obstruction in developing your very own personal style.

Instead of kissing me, he nuzzled my ear with his nose and I felt more than heard him take a long, deep breath. "God, you smell so good, Sara. You make me want to eat you all up." Oh God. I wanted to be eaten all up.

There weren't butterflies in my stomach, there were fire breathing dragons.

Well guess you'd better call me Clay. You want a bad boy, ask for Jet. He'll come running, secret boyfriend or not.

There's something to say about inspiration - when it comes into your life...the feeling is insatiable.

I don't want to brag or anything, but I'm sorta like a rock star to these people.

Her expression shut faster than a poked clam. 'I'll just get a cardigan.' He might not be a hellraiser anymore but Devin valued his reputation. 'Haven't you got anything sexy?' 'Yes,' said Rachel, 'my mind.

Um, sorry we touched your precious," I say, pointing to his guitar. He chuckles. "Normally I'd want to break your fingers but since you knew what you were doing and used her for good instead of evil, I'll say it's no problem." "What constitutes evil?" "Taylor Swift.

The look on his face wasn't just a dark storm, it was the full force of a tornado or a tsunami.

Having rock-star problems may be the closest I ever get to being an actual rock star.

We swear we see each other, but all we are ever able to make out is a tiny porthole view of an ocean. We think we remember the past, but our memories are as fantastic and flimsy as dreams. It's so easy to hate the pretty one, worship the genius, love the rockstar, trust the good girl. That's never their only story.

Remember, sex is like a Chinese dinner. It ain’t over ‘til you both get your cookie.“ —ALEC BALDWIN

The bravest thing David Bowie ever did was to go on stage after Queen at Live Aid.

That is sacrilegious. You just totally dissed man code. If we don’t have man code, the world will fall apart." Kip Paxton

He recovered quickly, reaching out to touch a few outstretched hands, melting the front row of girls like one long stick of butter as he moved closer toward me.

Rock guys were Viagra for my soul.

I would die for you, Coley. Don't you know that? You may not be mine biologically, but you're the daughter of my heart.

Then why have you been talking about her for the past half hour straight?" His friend glanced over at him, a cheeky grin on his face, and the rockstar glared exaggeratedly. "I have not." "You definitely have. I missed an entire episode of Cupcake Wars because you've got a crush.

Does he know you’re with me? Does he know about me? Does he know we fuck each other in our dreams every night? ~ Ripp Collins

Stop with the no, sir bullshit. We both know that sarcastic sir is your verbal shorthand for asshole.

Listen to learn. Learn to earn!

If it is to be, it's up to thee. You are responsible for your success.

Is sex dirty? Only when it’s being done right.

Not a single person has died of boredom reading this book.

Architect without Pencil is like Rock-star without Guitar.

I love her. I do. I have loved her since the moment I saw her, before she even saw me. She’s the piece of me that’s missing, the piece that makes me whole.

Our eyes met and locked as the song came to a halt, followed by a screaming conclusion from the crowd, girls around us pressing me into the stage, forcing all the air out of my lungs, but I’d forgotten about doing anything so basic as breathing.

When you look at me, tease my desire with a mere gaze, it shreds the edges of my soul… ~ Ripp Collins

I want to hear one more of your stories Tangle up in your dreams, give up the fight ‘Pour one more glass of that wine And I might not go home tonight...

Love isn't all sparks and firecrackers. Sometimes it’s more subtle than that.

He licked his lips, shaking his head again, and raised his eyes to mine. "Maybe you could put something else on? Like... I don't know... a robe or... a Burka... or something...

Don't exist. Live. Get out, explore. Thrive. Challenge authority. Challenge yourself. Evolve. Change forever. Become who you say you always will. Keep moving. Don't stop. Start the revolution. Become a freedom fighter. Become a superhero. Just because everyone doesn't know your name doesn't mean you dont matter. Become a chameleon-fit in anywhere. Be a rockstar-stand out everywhere. Do nothing, do everything. Forget everything, remember everyone. Care, don't just pretend to. Listen to everyone. Love everyone and nothing at the same time. Its impossible to be everything,but you can't stop trying to do it all.

He was tall—6’ 3” or so—with haunting green eyes that seemed to smolder despite his lazy smile. His eyes were a great contrast to his thick, shiny, dark hair. And not that I’d ever seen it personally but judging from the way his t-shirt clung to his torso, he had a body that completed the entire handsome package. He was every inch a rock star. He was charming, playful and confident. He was practically irresistible. His only flaw was that he knew it.

The posters and rock-star buttons and banners were valueless without the perspective of the mind that had attached significance to them. Souvenirs have no worth without nostalgia, after all. They're meaningless if a memory isn't linked to them.

Women, you have all this power, I’m telling you. In business, you have something called an inferred fiduciary duty to yourself. Look at the other hugely successful women in industry, commerce, science and everywhere else and you’ll see women who are feminine, beautiful but also do not rely on men for their self-empowerment.

I am serenading you sweetheart,” Kip says, “The way I figure it, you like those idiots who play guitars, so I figure I will learn how to play so I can seduce you. Jagger will understand. I mean he can’t play drums for shit, so you will have no choice but to fall madly in love with my guitar and drum playing skills.” He grins like a Cheshire cat.

He describes three types of happiness: pleasure, passion, and higher purpose.1            1.    Pleasure: This type of happiness is about always chasing the next high. It is the rock-star type of happiness because it is very hard to maintain unless you are living the lifestyle of a rock star.            2.    Passion: Also known as “flow,” where peak performance meets peak engagement, and time flies by.            3.    Higher Purpose: This is about being part of something bigger than yourself that has meaning to you.

The music glides between the pores of your skin to bubble through your veins in place of blood, and you can't help but clutch the mic with both trembling hands and let the song flow out of you like blood from a wound. In those moments, when the music has replaced everything and even awareness of your own body has faded, you can't breathe, can't do anything but let the song own you, let the performance rocket through you. There's no people, no problems in your life, no buzz of alcohol in your blood or pain in your heart.

Don't exist. Live. Get out, explore. Thrive. Challenge authority. Challenge yourself. Evolve. Change forever. Become who you say you always will. Keep moving. Don't stop. Start the revolution. Become a freedom fighter. Become a superhero. Just because everyone doesn't know your name doesn't mean you don't matter. Are you happy? Have you ever been happy? What have you done today to matter? Did you exist or did you live? How did you thrive? Become a chameleon—fit in anywhere. Be a rockstar—stand out everywhere. Do nothing, do everything. Forget everything, remember everyone. Care, don't just pretend to. Listen to everyone. Love everyone and nothing at the same time. Its impossible to be everything, but you can't stop trying to do it all. . . . Leap. It's time to be aggressive. You've started to speak your mind, now keep going with it. . . . Get your gloves on, it's time for rebirth. There IS no room for the nice guys in the history books. THIS IS THE START OF A REVOLUTION. THE REVOLUTION IS YOUR LIFE. THE GOAL IS IMMORTALITY. LET'S LIVE, BABY. LET'S FEEL ALIVE AT ALL TIMES. TAKE NO PRISONERS. HOLD NO SOUL UNACCOUNTABLE, ESPECIALLY NOT YOUR OWN. IF SOMETHING DOESN'T HAPPEN, IT'S YOUR FAULT. Make this moment your reckoning. Your head has been held under water for too long and now it is time to rise up and take your first true breath. Do everything with exact calculation, nothing without meaning. Do not make careful your words, but make no excuses for what you say. Fuck em' all. Set a goal for everyday and never be tired.

I know a lot of hot, unconventionally beautiful ladies who kick ass and have sex with rock-star dudes and aren't sorry about it at all. I need to say this loud for the girls in the back of the class: if a dude doesn't want to have to use both hands to grab your ass, that's totally cool; its his choice. But that doesn't make you a piece of shit. You hoist up your saddlebags and go find some dude who thinks you're rad and doesn't mind wiping the sweat off your bottom stomach when you switch sex positions. Don't be all down in the dumps (like a truck truck truck) and let opportunists and perverts take advantage of some low self-esteem you're absolutely too awesome to have.

You know, Piggly Wiggly never could hang on to a night stock manager. Your math skills would be a plus, maybe even your Spanish, and you don't mind staying up late." "Piggly Wiggly, wow. I hadn't thought about that. I'll swing by, pick up an application tomorrow. But if it doesn't pan out maybe ... Never mind, it's a crazy idea." "No, tell me. I want to hear it." "Well, just as a backup plan, I did hear that Sony has an opening. They're, um, they're looking for a rock star. The hours suck, but it's no worse than night stock manager at Pigs. I bet it pays better too." Isabel stopped in her tracks, playfully slapping his arm. "Aidan, that's genius! That's what you should do! I've heard you sing, you can carry a decent tune." She looked him up and down. "With a little work, you can probably pull off the image." He tugged on her arms until she was in his. "Only if you're sure. Only if it's what we want." "Aidan, it's who you are. I've known it since the day we brought that first guitar here. I'd never want to take that away.

For months beforehand, I fielded calls from British media. A couple of the reporters asked me to name some British chefs who had inspired me. I mentioned the Roux brothers, Albert and Michel, and I named Marco Pierre White, not as much for his food as for how—by virtue of becoming an apron-wearing rock-star bad boy—he had broken the mold of whom a chef could be, which was something I could relate to. I got to London to find the Lanesborough dining room packed each night, a general excitement shared by everyone involved, and incredibly posh digs from which I could step out each morning into Hyde Park and take a good long run around Buckingham Palace. On my second day, I was cooking when a phone call came into the kitchen. The executive chef answered and, with a puzzled look, handed me the receiver. Trouble at Aquavit, I figured. I put the phone up to my ear, expecting to hear Håkan’s familiar “Hej, Marcus.” Instead, there was screaming. “How the fuck can you come to my fucking city and think you are going to be able to cook without even fucking referring to me?” This went on for what seemed like five minutes; I was too stunned to hang up. “I’m going to make sure you have a fucking miserable time here. This is my city, you hear? Good luck, you fucking black bastard.” And then he hung up. I had cooked with Gordon Ramsay once, a couple of years earlier, when we did a promotion with Charlie Trotter in Chicago. There were a handful of chefs there, including Daniel Boulud and Ferran Adrià, and Gordon was rude and obnoxious to all of them. As a group we were interviewed by the Chicago newspaper; Gordon interrupted everyone who tried to answer a question, craving the limelight. I was almost embarrassed for him. So when I was giving interviews in the lead-up to the Lanesborough event, and was asked who inspired me, I thought the best way to handle it was to say nothing about him at all. Nothing good, nothing bad. I guess he was offended at being left out. To be honest, though, only one phrase in his juvenile tirade unsettled me: when he called me a black bastard. Actually, I didn’t give a fuck about the bastard part. But the black part pissed me off.