Stevie Nicks Quotes

Little girls think it's necessary to put all their business on MySpace and Facebook, and I think it's a shame...I'm all about mystery.

Love is only one fine star away.

When you grow up as a girl, the world tells you the things that you are supposed to be: emotional, loving, beautiful, wanted. And then when you are those things, the world tells you they are inferior: illogical, weak, vain, empty.

..I find it incredible impossible not to cry when I hear Stevie Nicks's "Landslide," especially the lyric: "I've been afraid of changing, because I've built my life around you." I think a good test to see if a human is actually a robot/android/cylon is to have them listen to this song lyric and study their reaction. If they don't cry, you should stab them through the heart. You will find a fusebox.

Maybe we were together in another life...in a parallel universe, maybe our paths are not supposed to cross twice, maybe your arms are not supposed to go around me. I hear about you now & then, I wonder where you are & how you feel. Sometimes I walk by & I look up to your balcony, just to make sure you were real-just to make sure that I can still feel you...it appears to me that Destiny Rules...

Time cast a spell on you but you won't forget me, I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me. I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you, you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

Drownin', in the sea of love Where everyone would love to drown. Stevie Nicks "Sara

I have my own life. And I am stronger than you know.

Don't Listen To Her, Listen Through Her." Stevie Nicks

I said,'Instead of going in the direction that a lot of the women singers are going in [revealing], I'll be very, very sexy under 18 pounds of chiffon and lace and velvet...I will have mystique.

She is like a cat in the dark And then she is the darkness She rules her life like a fine skylark And when the sky is starless All your life you've never seen a woman Taken by the wind Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win?

Gansey turned the key. The engine turned over once, paused for the briefest of moments - and then roared to deafening life. The Camaro lived to fight another day. The radio was even working, playing the Stevie Nicks song that always sounded to Gansey like it was about a one-winged dove.

Don't be lady. Be a legend.

Great snakes!” Penny says, snatching her hand away from me and jumping off the bed. “Fuck a nine-toed troll, Simon.” She’s shaking her hand, and there are tears in her eyes. “Stevie Nicks and Gracie Slick! Fuck!

I have no fear, I have only love

There is a part of me that has to depend on fantasy, because if you can't be somewhat of a fantasy person, then you can't write

We fought very hard for feminism, for women's rights. What I'm seeing today is a very opposite thing. I don't know why, but I see women being put back in the place. And I hate it. We're losing all we worked so hard for and it really bums me out.

And the moon never beams Without bringing me dreams And the sun never shines But I see the bright eyes I lie down by the side Of my darling My life, my life..

There are days when I swear I could fly like an eagle And dark desperate hours that nobody sees My arms stretched triumphant on top of the mountain My head in my hands down on my knees

Now here you go again You say you want your freedom Well who am I to keep you down It's only right that you should Play the way you feel it But listen carefully to the sound Of your loneliness Like a heartbeat ... drives you mad In the stillness of remembering what you had And what you lost ... [Dreams]

Well, I've been afraid of changing 'Cause I've built my life around you But time makes you bolder Even children get older And I'm getting older too

There is always magic to be summoned at any point. I love to live in a world of magic, but not a fake world of magic. We all really basically have a lot of magic... It’s only those of us who choose to accept it, that really understand it. It’s there for everyone. That’s the only thing that I feel I am able to give to people and that’s why I know that they respond to me because I try to give them only their own magic... not mine, but theirs

My feelings about politics and literature and mathematics and the rest of life’s minutiae can only be described through a labyrinthine of six-sided questions, but everything that actually matters can be explained by Lindsey fucking Buckingham and Stevie fucking Nicks in four fucking minutes.

Don't listen to her listen through her.

Your graciousness is what carries you. It isn't how old you are, how beautiful you are, or how short your skirt is. What it is, is what comes out of your heart. If you are gracious, you have won the game.

He was hearing Stevie Nicks singing in his head when Colt fell asleep in the bed, in the house, with the woman at his side that life meant him to have. After waiting for forty-four years, for the fifth night in a row, Alexander Colton was finally living the life he was meant to be living.

Jesus Christ, it's like living with Stevie bloody Nicks,' I said, 'only without the cocaine, which would be more fun.

Sylvie Rabineau, thank you for loving Stevie Nicks the way I do and for handling the chaos that was Daisy Jones with grace and joy.

After all, our patron saint, rock-and-roll princess Stevie Nicks, spent years hoping some guy might save her, and then she figured out that she was absolutely capable of saving herself.

I find it extremely impossible not to cry when I hear Stevie Nicks’s “Landslide,” especially the lyric: “I’ve been afraid of changing, because I’ve built my life around you.” I think a good test to see if a human is actually a robot/android/cylon is to have them listen to this song lyric and study their reaction. If they don’t cry, you should stab them through the heart. You will find a fusebox.

♫ Wait a minute, baby...stay with me awhile...said you'd show me light, but you never told me 'bout the fire ♫ Steve didn't really find her voice until after she and Lindsay joined Fleetwood Mac. And that's the thing: you can't be your best self until you find your tribe. I'm still lookin' for mine.

Every time I collect my mail from the paint-spattered box in the lobby and see my name printed over and over in bold black ink, I’m reminded that I’m named after a rock star. Not an endlessly cool rocker like Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, or Madonna. No, my name is Henley Rose Evans, and my parents consciously named me after the lead singer and drummer of every boomer’s favorite easy listening band, the Eagles.

Nostos algos. I want to go home. A phrase that's stuck on a loop, that I hear before falling asleep, waiting in line for my coffee, tapping the elevator button and rising through the sky to my apartment...and yet my desire is not attached to a particular place...I want to go home but what I mean, what I'm grasping for, is not a place. It's a feeling. I want to go back. But back where? Maybe to the first time I heard Stevie Nicks, to watching the snow fall outside the window with a paperback folded open in my lap, to the moment before I tasted alcohol, to virginity and not really knowing that things die, back to believing that something great is still up ahead, back to before I made the choices that would hem me in to the life I live now. A life that I regret sometimes, I think, only because it's mine, because it's turned out this way and not some other way, because I can't go back and change what will happen.

She is like a cat in the dark and then she is the darkness.

I've never been to a strip club but I turn on MTV and see in every single video what it must look like... if you have to work so hard at appearing sexy, then perhaps you weren't that sexy after all, perhaps your music has no sensuality, perhaps your music is dull, indeed, that you have no choice but to pelvic thrust your way through a pop video in a leather bikini in order to detract from its mediocrity... it might be advisable to do something else.

It was hard when you practice that hard and you sound that good and everybody tells you that you should be doing something else... You want to say, 'Obviously we're not from the same planet'...Lindsey and I just couldn't understand how we could sing a beautiful song and nobody liked it. It was like, 'We don't belong here, nobody understands us.

looking like a saint, or, even worse, like Stevie Nicks, because how were you ever supposed to say no to Stevie Nicks?

In December 1974 Fleetwood Mac was a band on the run, a band in exile, a band in serious trouble.

Also, I find it extremely impossible not to cry when I hear Stevie Nicks’s “Landslide,” especially the lyric: “I’ve been afraid of changing, because I’ve built my life around you.” I think a good test to see if a human is actually a robot/android/cylon is to have them listen to this song lyric and study their reaction. If they don’t cry, you should stab them through the heart. You will find a fusebox.

Blue Denim I saw him the other day I saw him again... yesterday I wonder if I'll ever see him again He reminded me of Blue Denim [Chorus:] Blue-gray eyes... they change with the color... Change with the sun... they run with the sight They change with the wind... but they're always bright Bright eyes... Blue Denim Bright eyes... Blue Denim I knew him another way I knew him another day In some ways he'd forgotten me In many ways he got to me I turned away so he couldn't see I turned away... it could never be I never thought he could walk away But I lost him again... yesterday [Chorus] Understanding me... understanding you Is not an easy thing to do Understanding me... and understanding you Is not an easy thing to do And I will never forget... The last time I saw you Like a photograph... so rare Like a painting No I will never forget... The last time I saw you Never to be... not you... not me No... no... [Chorus] So I'm going away for a little while To remember how to feel And if I find the answer... I promise you... I'll come back and get you I'll come back and get you I'll come back and get you

And don’t get me started on Jesus. I adored the idea of Jesus. If God is Beyoncé, then Jesus was Solange or Stevie Nicks or, perhaps, Bob Marley. He was a down-to-earth, gentle rebel who wore flowing robes and long, curly hair. He preached forgiveness and free love and hung out with prostitutes and hated the government and gave people free food and turned water into wine to liven up the party. He even had a weird stoner cousin, John the Baptist, who ate locusts and honey and lived in the woods, taking people on spiritual journeys in the local river.

I want to go back. But back where? Maybe to the first time I heard Stevie Nicks, to watching the snow fall outside the window with a paperback folded open in my lap, to the moment before I tasted alcohol, to virginity and not really knowing that things die, back to believing that something great is still up ahead, back to before I made the choices that would hem me in to the life I live now. A life that I regret sometimes, I think, only because it’s mine, because it’s turned out this way and not some other way, because I can’t go back and change what will happen.

I want to go back. But back where? Maybe to the first time I heard Stevie Nicks, to watching the snow fall outside the window with a paperback folded open in my lap, to the moment before I tasted alcohol, to virginity and not really knowing that things die, back to believing that something great is still up ahead, back to before I made the choices that would hem me in to the life I live now. A life that I regret sometimes, I think, only because it's mine, because it's turned out this way and not some other way, because I can't go back and change what will happen.

Stevie thought that “Silver Springs” would be her dominant song on the new album; it couldn’t fail. The only problem was that Lindsey hated the song. He said it was too much in his face, and he gave Stevie a very hard time about working on the song in the studio. To Lindsey Buckingham, “Silver Springs” was not a prophesy. It was a curse.

convey musically in her songs. Nobody else had this. As for Lindsey, he was angry about everything. He blamed Fleetwood Mac and the pressures of being in the band for the breakup with Stevie. He told his girlfriend Carol he didn’t like Stevie, but he was still in love with her. Even decades later, he confessed to an interviewer: “I was devastated when she took off.

I always envision a care free, charismatic, lives by her own rules type of woman who has the world at her finger tips. I don't think she's necessarily guarded or unapproachable but she has the quality that summons her on level of her own that most don't feel worthy of and wouldn't attempt. Stevie's sort of laying this out and saying here I am, this is me, can you fly with me? Are you up to the challenge? I won't hurt you but can you handle this?

First time they met was on a cruise, if you think of “cruise” in maybe more of a specialized way. In the wake of her separation, back in what still isn’t quite The Day, from her then husband, Horst Loeffler, after too many hours indoors with the blinds drawn listening on endless repeat to Stevie Nicks singing “Landslide” on a compilation tape she ignored the rest of, drinking horrible Crown Royal Shirley Temples and chasing them with more grenadine directly from the bottle and going through a bushel per day of Kleenex, Maxine finally allowed her friend Heidi to convince her that a Caribbean cruise would somehow upgrade her mental prognosis. One day she went sniffling down the hall from her office and into the In ’n’ Out Travel Agency, where she found undusted surfaces, beat-up furniture, a disheveled model of an ocean liner that shared a number of design elements with RMS Titanic. “You’re in luck. We’ve just had a . . .” Long pause, no eye contact. “Cancellation,” suggested Maxine. “You could say.” The price was irresistible. To anyone in their right mind, too much so.

Without A Leg To Stand On I got nothin' but time No time for living I've been everywhere It's all the same I just need somebody That I can lean on Nobody wants to keep you When you're in love with the game But you know that I can't let go And there ain't nothin' left to show Got the feeling I can't say no without a leg to stand on There's so many fine people That I believe in They don't care where I'm going It's not their show I got nothin' but time No time for living I used to be somebody But that was so long ago Look around but you won't see me Just a picture of what I used to be There ain't nothin' to set me free without a leg to stand on But you know that I can't let go And there aint nothin' left to show Got the feelin' I can't say no Without a leg to stand on

tend to attract more attention when everyone in your group looks like a refugee from a Stevie Nicks concert.

Dreams unwind Loves a state of mind

I’d been born with rebel strands that tended to go their own way faster than Stevie Nicks’s solo career.

What would Stevie Nicks do? She would go her own way.

...but somehow, it's part of why Stevie Nicks means so much to us. It's why we hear our own broken forevers in this music, why we hear our own emotional avalanches in her songs. When she rides the landslide, she rides it all the way down, and she takes us down with her.

One of her best songs ever is 'Annabel Lee,' which she just released a few years ago on her underrated 2011 album In My Dreams. It's a six-minute sex-and-death trip with a lyric from one of her hot dead rock-and-roll boyfriends: Edgar Allan Poe. The key line is: 'The moon never beams without bringing me dreams.' Poe might have written that line in 1849, but he clearly always meant it for Stevie Nicks to sing.

To the gypsy That remains She faces freedom With a little fear Well I have no fear I have only love.

So from Janis I learned that to make it as a female musician in a man’s world is going to be tough, and you need to keep your head held high. From Jimi, I learned flamboyance, grace, and humility.

Her tall, willowy stature was made more striking by the sea of drapey white things she’d dressed herself in. She smiled down at me, equal parts Galadriel Lady of the Golden Wood and aging Stevie Nicks, and the wrinkled corners of her brown eyes crinkled sweetly.

Before joining Fleetwood Mac, Californians Stevie and Lindsey had released one album, Buckingham/Nicks (Polydor), but it quickly found its way into the cut-out bins (“We were tax write-offs,” says Lindsey) and they were dropped from the label. Emotional entanglements or not, they weren’t about to slam the door in the face of success. “Really, each one of us was way too proud and way too stubborn to walk away from it,” Stevie recalls. “I wasn’t going to leave. Lindsey wasn’t going to leave. What would we have done? Sat around L.A. and tried to start new bands? Nobody wanted to do that. We like touring. We like making money and we like being a band. It was just grit your teeth and bear it.

Northern Californians may remember Fritz, a band Lindsey and his friend Stephanie (later Stevie) Nicks were members of for several years in the late ’60s and early ’70s, and which became quite popular on the South Bay steak & lobster circuit.

And when Lindsey dedicated ‘Save Me A Place’ to his mother I thought ‘Well, somebody has to remember his father, because he was so strong behind us’. And when I walked out there and said ‘This is for Lindsey’s father who should be here; I just went ‘BI-e-e-e-e-e-c-c-c-c-chhhhhhhh’. You know how it is when you start to cry and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. And I just couldn’t do it. But at least I felt it was important for Buck that I remember he was a mainstay in the creativity and careers of Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks. Without him it wouldn’t have happened.

Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks were a couple.

The last thing I need is to hear one more person saying, ‘Isn’t Stevie Nicks cute.’ I’m not responsible for the way I look, but I am responsible for what I do creatively. Nothing would make me happier than recognition as a songwriter.

Excuse me, do you have something against Stevie Nicks?” “Her voice sort of gets on my nerves.

I am pretty fearless, and you know why? Because I don't handle fear very well; I'm not a good terrified person. Stevie Nicks

At this low point, while listening to the sound quality of a particular studio he was keen to rent, Mick came across the voices of Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham. On enquiring who they were, he was told they were a couple from San Francisco, and that they had an album out called Buckingham Nicks.

I may not be a witch, but I looked the part. “Stevie Nicks would be proud,” I said to my feathered accessory.

And as Stevie Nicks croons about the stillness of remembering what you lost and what you had, I whisper a silent prayer that my husband stays upstairs at least five more minutes . . .

Four hours and three bottles of wine later, and with Stevie Nicks playing in the background,

year or so before meeting Stevie I’d decided to stop drinking. Holy Fuck. Big shout. I did not see that coming. It’d just got all too much for me, the hangovers, the anger, the aggro, the crushing shame of a wet bed. I couldn’t do it any more.

He flipped through the music stations as he drove, searching for some nonexistent perfect song that would be, as Stevie Nicks might sing, “hauntingly familiar” yet not played so often as to beat it into submission. When he did find such a song—a rarity—it was always the last verse, and so the flipping would start anew. When

I’ve narrowed it down to nobody,

In the mid-fifties, Welsh-descended musicians invented rock & roll music in America’s Mid-South. The Welsh name Elvis means what it sounds like—elfin, impish, otherworldly. And Presley is another way to spell Preseli, the Welsh mountains that provided the Druidical “sarsen stones” of Stonehenge.

Most of the other early rockers were Welsh, too: Jerry Lee Lewis from Ferriday, Louisiana; Carl Perkins and the Everly Brothers from Tennessee; Conway Twitty (born Harold Jenkins) from Arkansas. Same with Ronnie Hawkins and Levon Helm. Even Johnny Cash and a lot of the country and western stars: Loretta Lynn. Buck Owens. Kitty Wells. Hank Williams.

The founder of the Rolling Stones, Brian Jones (born Lewis Brian Hopkin-Jones), had Welsh blood. David Bowie’s real name was David Jones. Ray Davies. Robert Plant and Jimmy Page both had Welsh ancestors, and even retreated to Wales to write music for Led Zeppelin. “Bron-Yr-Aur.

I loved him before he was a millionaire. We were two kids out of Menlo-Atherton High School. I loved him for all the right reasons.” And, to an interviewer: “We did have a great relationship at first.

During an early break from the road in Buffalo, New York, Stevie and Chris were shopping for vintage clothes in a thrift store when Stevie came across an antique black silk top hat, the kind a gentleman once wore to the opera. She tried it on and decided it gave her a dramatic, even operatic look. Within months it would become her trademark.

(“Dreams” would become Fleetwood Mac’s only ever #1 single release. Stevie later said that “Dreams” was “totally related” to a song by the Spinners, but couldn’t remember which one. Observers have suggested “I’ll Be Around” as a possible model.) *

She told her close friend, the beautiful, ultrafeminine former model Sara Recor, that she didn’t think she would ever fully trust a man after what she’d been through with Lindsey, who now seemed so against her all the time.

If you have stage fright, it never goes away. But then I wonder: is the key to that magical performance because of the fear?

The party never stopped at Mick's place. He categorized three phases of a good drug binge: ascending, transcending, disintegration.

Nobody heard a hit record in “Rhiannon,” “I Don’t Want To Know,” and “So Afraid.

Music was magic for Emilie, especially the music of Stevie Nicks. For as long as she could remember, Stevie’s crushed-velvet voice could calm her racing mind even on the roughest days.

Stevie’s epic “Fireflies

One night, Stevie asked Jane when she met Tom. She replied, “Ah met him at the edge of seventeen.” Stevie, puzzled, said, “Did you say the ‘edge’ of seventeen?

The Proctors relied on geometry and Jacobean literature, and I used the poems of Emily Dickinson, but it was Fleetwood Mac who inspired my mother’s gramarye. There wasn’t much to distinguish between William Shakespeare, Emily Dickinson, and Stevie Nicks. They were all bards, after all, with magic in their pens. I showed Gwyneth the annotated lyrics. “She hid it in plain sight—in the words of her favorite songs. This is what she used to refresh old spells and keep them sharp.” Gwyneth gasped. “Rebecca used music?” “Apparently,” I replied, running my fingers across the underlining in “I Don’t Want to Know.” She’d written A powerful method for uncovering old secrets next to Finally baby / The truth has come down now.

Years later, after Henley had spoken publicly about this pregnancy, Stevie gave an interview to Billboard during which she was asked about this in reference to one of her songs. She replied, “Had I married Don and had that baby, and had she been a girl, I would have named her Sara. But there was another woman in my life then named Sara; so it’s accurate, but not the entirety of it.

At some point that year Stevie Nicks became pregnant by Don Henley.

Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, Florence Welch—acknowledged Stevie as a major influence on their careers, and Stevie allowed that this was flattering. A

Fleetwood Mac? Are you kidding me? Stevie Nicks is one of the greatest lyricists of all time. Why don’t you like them?