Tony Parsons Quotes

to love means to realize there is a time to let the beloved one go

It's painful and it's messy. But sometimes you just have to make the break and start again.

Love means knowing when to let go.

Sometimes we are only aware of how happy we are when the moment has passed. But now and again, if we are very lucky, we are aware of happiness when it is actually happening.

Cancer seems a high price to pay for an innocuous-looking habit. You get into smoking and you are robbed of the last 25 years of your life. Some cocky souls will say, 'Ah yes, but they are the worst 25 years.' Nobody feels like that in a cancer ward. There are no cocky souls in a cancer ward. But there's a lot of pain, not just of the excruciating physical kind that they shoot you full of morphine to smother. There are a lot of tears. All round. It is hard to say goodbye to the people you love. And it's scary. Cancer wards have a way of knocking the cockiness out of you. And for what? Another cigarette?

I once read somewhere that, in any relationship, the one who cares the least is the one with all the power.

It's funny. You love something and one day it's suddenly gone or changed or lost forever. But somehow that doesn't stop your loving. Maybe that's how you know it's the real thing.

Learn to trust your instincts. Only something dead goes with the tide. Only something living can go against it.

Sometimes we are only aware of how happy we are when the moment has passed. But now and again, if we are very luky, we are aware of happiness when it is actually happening. Tony Parsons, Man and Boy.

She wasn't the kind who cared about signs, she moved through the world as if she had a right to be there - anywhere, everywhere. Like a woman in a book, like a girl in a song.

If you are always craving, always wanting, never satisfied, never happy with what you've got, you end up even more lost and lonely than you do...

It can't always be a honeymoon

I love you but I'm not in love with you

Dont feel too bad, Harry. People break-up everyday, its not the end of the world..

Everything ends. It does. Sooner or later. This - all this - it has to end sometime.

Sometimes I think that love is a case of mistaken identity.

What's your name?'Leon said, when waht he meant was - may I love you for ever? And she told him.

And it felt like every time I turned around, somebody was either dying or walking out.

...all that we do is governed by the law of opposites in which every so-called positive act is exactly and equally balanced by its opposite.;

I'm not saying it's what I would have wanted. But don't you see? We fuck up our lives again and again and it's always our children who pick up the bill. We move on to new relationships, always starting over, always thinking we've got another chance to get it right, it's the kids from all these broken marriages who pay the price. They - my son, your daughters, all the millions like them - are carrying around wounds that are going to last a lifetime. It has to stop.

Don't you see?" he said. "This could go on for another five years, another ten years, and then where would we be? You want to grow old waiting for something that's never going to happen? Is that what you want?

Sometimes the fog in his eyes would clear, that fog caused by the pain and the killers of pain, and when it cleared, I saw regret and fear in those eyes swimming with tears and I was convinced that this was it, this was the end, this was surely the end.

Lako je voleti nekoga ko je na vasoj strani.

I think that you can use up your love. I think you can blow it all on one person. You can love so much, so deeply, that there is nothing left for anyone else.

... he was totally in thrall to the face of the girl in front of him. She stunned him. She paralysed him. Just being in the presence of that face made him pause, his tongue tied with self-consciousness. But she made it easy for him

Rouz je bila na mojoj strani onako kako niko nikada nije bio na mojoj strani. Rouz je bila dobrovoljac. Bilo joj je stalo do mene. Voleci me, ona me je oslobodila. Bio sam slobodan da budem ono sto jesam. Nije u meni videla samo coveka kakav jesam, nego i coveka kakav bi mogao da budem. Voleci me, ucinila je da poverujem da bi moji snovi mogli da postanu stvarnost.

Nobody can teach you to be alive.

Well it seems anything is possible. The mind is capable of anything, except liberation from itself.

The way in which I relate to others is a most powerful reflection in the most fundamental relationship of all, and that is with myself.

Life doesn't give a fuck who's living it.

Love is what's left when being in love has gone, okay? It's when you care about someone and you hope they're happy, but you're not under any illusions about them. Maybe that kind of love is not exciting and passionate and all those things that fade with time. All those things that you're so keen on. But in the end it's the only kind of love that really matters.

Say what you like about those starry-eyed souls, about the upheaval and destruction they always leave in their wake, but there is one thing about romantics that nobody can deny. They never settle for second best

There was an intelligence about him (Joe Strummer) that allowed his band to change and evolve, just as Johnny Rotten and the Sex Pistols were disappearing up their own bondage trousers. And there was a generosity about Strummer, too, a warmth and humanity about the guy. He was a brilliant musician, a beautiful man, and a charismatic artist. There is a part of me that bitterly resents the fact that the Clash never replaced the Rolling Stones in rock music's hall of heroes. But the Clash were not about milking if for a lifetime...I thought they were the greatest band I had ever seen. And, half a lifetime on, in a large part of my soul, I still do...They changed lives. They certainly changed mine. Because they made me believe that, with passion and commitment and a bit of fire in your belly, you could be exactly the person you wanted to be.

I think that the spirit lives on, I don't know if it's in heaven or if it's somewhere else, some other place that I don't know anything about. But it doesn't just die. It lives on. Even if it's only in the hearts of the people we love.

And then the old man was standing in the doorway, still in his white coat and his French Foreign Legion hat, blinking at his wife and his son and his son’s girlfriend, young Misty. “Guess what?” Terry’s mum said, as if she had been saving this up for a long time. “Guess what, Granddad?” Yes, his father looked ancient these days. But when he heard the news and it had started to sink in, that kind, exhausted face lit up with a smile, and it was a smile that Terry knew would last the old man for years.

The thing about cancer is that it can always exceed your worst expectations. There is something pornographic about cancer's ability to confound your imagination. Whatever new obscenity cancer comes up with to torment and torture you, it can always do worse tomorrow.

Then they lay there in silence for a while, listening to the rain, watching it come straight down, feeling it cool their sweating faces. You couldn't avoid all of it, not with the missing roof, but after being chase by Teds, it was so refreshing that Terry sighed. And he thought how good it was to be still, to be quiet for once, to be with people you knew so well that there was no real need to talk, and to just feel the sweet kick of the sulphate in your veins, to enjoy that rush of pure euphoria, and to let it all go for a while

Не можеш да даваш на доведеното си дете само нежност и одобрение, защото никой родител не прави това. И все пак нямаш властта да порицаваш детето по начини, присъщ за истинските родители. Вторите родители - тези,които дават най-доброто от себе си - искат да бъдат харесвани. Истинските родители не изпитват нужда от това. Защото знаят, че са обичани. Това е любов, която се дава безусловно и без резерви. Един родител трябва да направи нещо наистина много лошо, за да пропилее любовта на своето дете. Вторият родител не получава такъв вид любов.

Riddle me this - she is my daughter but I am not her father: who am I? I am a step parent. Ah, but I don't really believe in the term step-parent. I don't think the role exists. Not really. For either in the end you are either a child's parent or you are not. And blood does not have a lot do to with it.

But you have learn to let go, my mother said, 'That's part of it, isn't it?' 'Part of what?' Part of what it means to love someone. To really love someone. If you love someone you just don't see them as an extension of yourself. You don't just love them for what's in it for you.' 'Love means knowing when to let go,' she told me.

I know what that is, 'he said. 'That's drugs, that is.' 'You're a genius, aren't you?' 'Dad will kill you' 'Then I'll be dead.' Then they were both silent, thinking about the room down the hall that no one was allowed to touch, that no one was allowed to enter, and the brother who you were not alloewd to mention in this house. The brother you could't even fucking mention

I have this theory about divorce. I have a theory that is never a tragedy for adults and always a tragedy for children. Adults can lose weight, find someone nicer, get their life back. Divorce gives grown-ups a get-out-of-jail-free card. It is the children who pay the price, and pay it for the rest of their lives. But we can't admit that, all us scarred veterans of the divorce court, because it would mean admitting that we have inflicted wounds on our children that they will carry for the rest of their lives.

Došao sam u New Musical Express s dvadeset i dve godine...Ušao sam kao dečak, a izašao kao muškarac. A ako ne baš kao muškarac, onda kao dečak koji se mnogo drogira i koji je upoznao Debi Hari. No nisam ni mislio da će to trajati zauvek, pa se i završilo. S dvadeset pet godina bio sam nezaposleni siromašni otac. S dvadeset devet bio sam nezaposleni razvedeni siromašni otac. Kako god da se gleda, sve je išlo nizbrdo. ... Najzad sam postao pisac. Ali jedina stručna obuka koju sam prošao u muzičkom časopisu odnosila se na drogiranje sa zvezdama roka. Kako dodati džoint Bobu Marliju. Koja su pravila ponašanja na heroinskoj seansi kod Kita Ričardsa. Kako da ponudite amfetaminom Džonija Rotena a da ne prekršite etikeciju. Dok sam bio u NME, kreativno pisanje bilo je daleko beznačajnije od sposobnosti da se cele noći gluvari s Igijem Popom.Ja sam zaista želeo da pišem, jedino u tome sam bio iole dobar, ali kad sam napustio NME otkrio sam da sam izgubio temu čak i ne obavivši šegrtovanje.

Human Remains Pouch. We don’t call them body bags and they are not black, like the movies. This one was white with a long black zip.

from Bar Italia

telling me how much he loves me and the next

From the doorway I looked back at the street. The car parked outside was

nightlife. She was more of a dancing shoes kind of girl than a hiking boots kind of girl. There was a pained sweetness about her

But belief resides within the shadow of doubt. It only functions effectively in direct proportion to the suppression of the doubt that it seeks to override.

In our rush to find a better situation in time, we trample over the flower of beingness that presents itself in every moment.

It seems to me that our attachment to purpose is born from our need to prove something to ourselves. But life is simply life, and is not trying to prove anything at all. This springtime will not try to be better than last springtime, and neither will an ash tree try to become an oak.

For life is its own purpose and doesn’t need a reason to be. That is its beauty.

In being, there is no becoming, no attachment to a goal. I see that I no longer have to achieve any standard or behave in a certain way in order to become worthy.

If the story that engenders the fear is dropped, I discover that all I am left with is a physical sensation which is raw and alive. Now it ceases to overrun me and quietly takes its place in existence. It is the same with physical or emotional pain. When I cease to own it I liberate myself from its bondage and see it simply as it is. If I cease to label suffering as bad, and mine, it is possible to allow it simply as energy in a certain form, and it can then begin to have its own flavour.

Life is not a task.

I am not . . . . . . my life story, the mind, the body, feelings, experiences of pain or pleasure, struggle, success or failure. I am not loneliness, stillness, frustration or compassion. I am not even what I think is my purpose, the seeking, the finding, or anything which is called a spiritual experience.

The story of me is always about what will be, never what is. It is the search for a treasure within life, never seeing that life is the treasure.

It is slightly out of line – there is something else. Is it enlightenment?  And the mind will then paint a picture of what enlightenment is like. Enlightenment is bliss, omni-presence, omni-power, everybody loves you, you love everyone and you walk around in this beautiful pink haze.

The story of me is always about what will be, never what is. It is the search for a treasure within life, never seeing that life is the treasure.

Most people who want to cut a throat start on the outside, They hack and saw and chop.' She mimed hacking and sawing and chopping. 'That's all right if you want to hurt their feelings,' she said. 'That's alright if you want to put a crimp in their day. But not if you want to be certain of killing them.

Eventually, I encountered radical nondualists like Tony Parsons, Leo Hartong, Sailor Bob, Nathan Gill, Chuck Hillig, Karl Renz and Darryl Bailey. From radical nonduality, you get nothing.

There are a number of well and wearily trodden paths to a new man... Rather than catching up on your paperwork, you could squeeze in some 'best of a bad lot' power-flirting on the commute to work (and be gutted when, even though you didn't fancy them to begin with, ypur focus knocks you back). Maybe you're considering signing up for online dating or going to places where you should but absolutely never will, meet someone suitable? Since over the last year I've tried them all, I'll share what I've learnt with you. I've sat chatting to Belgian lawyers in Starbucks (willing them to be even a little more interesting); I've dabbled with online dating (where all the guys have done the Nick Hornby's Guide to Women course and are single parents with angelic but troubled kids, or run small, quirky yet failing businesses). I don't even want to think about going to another cultural event (to meet graduates of the Tony Parsons' Guide to Women course: bitterness over ex-wife, partially concealed by exterior of witty self-loathing, which in turn is momentarily obscured by an encyclopaedic knowledge of early punk bands).

You know what the biggest lie in the world is?’ ‘Tell me.’ ‘That everything happens for a reason. It’s not true. Some things are totally without reason. Some things – the things that hurt the most – are totally meaningless. Some things make no sense and will never make sense.’ I

Love mans knowing when to let go.

If I cease to label suffering as bad, and mine, it is possible to allow it simply as energy in a certain form, and it can then begin to have its own flavour.

Life is not a task.

The total isolation of death. The loneliness of the dying man. That is what I had noticed about my father's death. We loved him but, in the end, we left him and he died alone. Because we were tired. Because it was late. Because there was nothing we could do. We loved him and yet he was on his own.

I suspected it was just that I no longer cared so much. And that felt like the saddest thing in the world

There was lots that could be done. But there was also nothing that could be done. My father was dying.

He couldn't fight this sadness which came in the middle of the night, this sadness which made you feel that nothing could ever be any good again.