About Russell Brand: Russell Edward Brand is an English comedian, actor, radio host, author, and activist.
Only the hopeless love God.
God loves us, but the devil takes an interest.
Most of the mess that is called history comes about because kings and presidents cannot be satisfied with a nice chicken and a good loaf of bread.
I play until my fingers are blue and stiff from the cold, and then I keep on playing. Until I'm lost in the music. Until I am the music--notes and chords, the melody and harmony. It hurts, but it's okay because when I'm the music, I'm not me. Not sad...
There were times when I lifted my face to the sky, stretched my arms wide to the winter night, and laughed out loud, so happy was I. The memory of it makes me laugh now, but not from happiness. Be careful what you show the world. You never know when ...
The greenest of pastures are right here on earth.
Cry your grief to God. Howl to the heavens. Tear your shirt. Your hair. Your flesh. Gouge your eyes. Carve out your heart. And what will you get from Him? Only Silence. Indifference.
She's got a big belt around her hips. It has a shiny buckle with PRADA on it, which is Italian for insecure.
Beautiful people don't need coats. They've got their auras to keep them warm.
She smells of her cooking and the perfume Eau d'Hadrien. My mother wore it, too. She used to cook, like Lili. Our house smelled of garlic and thyme instead of sadness.
History is a Rorschach test, people. What you see when you look at it tells you as much about yourself as it does about the past.
In the end the British will walk out because 100,000 British cannot control 350 million Indians if those Indians refuse to cooperate.” A small minority cannot control an uncooperative majority, so they must be distracted, divided, tyrannized, or an...
One expects decent people to stand up for the good of all. Decent people shut their doors and hide behind them as decent people do. Massacres could never happen if it weren't for decent people.
Because just for a few seconds, someone else hurts, too. For just a few seconds, I'm not alone.
It goes on, this world, stupid and brutal. But I do not. I do not.
When you can write music that endures, bravo. Until then, keep quiet and study the work of those who can.
For mad I may be, but I will never be convenient.
And Robespierre, the Incorruptible, who loved us so much he cut off our heads so we would not be troubled by too many thoughts.
And then I remember this morning and I wonder if it really happened or if I dreamed it. It was nice. And weird. And tender. I'm not used to tender. It's a fossil, that word. Conditions changed and it died out. Like the woolly mammoth. It just couldn'...
I will go out again this very night with my rockets and fuses. I will blow them straight out of their comfortable beds. Blow the rooftops off their houses. Blow the black, wretched night to bits. I will not stop. For mad I may be, but I will never be...
Who knew that listening to a guy sleep could be so much deeper than sleeping with a guy.
