Brandon Boyd Quotes

For where thou art, there is the world itself, With every several pleasure in the world, And where thou art not, desolation.

You should not see the desert simply as some faraway place of little rain. There are many forms of thirst.

Do you know what people want more than anything? They want to be missed. They want to be missed the day they don't show up. They want to be missed when they're gone.

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, It's not warm when she's away, Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, And she's always gone too long, Anytime she goes away.

An' this house just ain't no home, Anytime she goes away.

But, visiting Sea, your love doth press / And reach in further than you know, / And fills all these; and, when you go, / There's loneliness in loneliness.

A single person is missing for you, and the whole world is empty.

The objects I chose were designed to hold something, but I didn't fill them up. They remained empty. They were little symbolic shrines to thirst.

Love can isolate us from everything around us. But in its absence, we can be filled with the fear that something comparable exists.

so I wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me. Till then my windows ache.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it sure makes the rest of you lonely.

Places that are empty of you are empty of life.

In the desert the most loved waters, like a lover's name, are carried blue in your hands, enter your throat. One swallows absence.

All you who sleep tonight Far from the ones you love, No hand to left or right, An emptiness above-- Know that you aren't alone. The whole world shares your tears, Some for two nights or one, And some for all your years.

Was it love when somebody filled a space in your life that yawned inside you, once they had gone?

They were nice enough people and all, but there wasn't much love in them. Because they were too busy being afraid. Love didn't grow very well in a place where there was only fear, just as plants didn't grow very well in a place where it was always dark.

A man seeks his own destiny and no other, said the judge. Wil or nill. Any man who could discover his own fate and elect therefore some opposite course could only come at last to that selfsame reckoning at the same appointed time, for each man's destiny is as large as the world he inhabits and contains within it all opposites as well. The desert upon which so many have been broken is vast and calls for largeness of heart but it is also ultimately empty. It is hard, it is barren. Its very nature is stone.

Wanting him to come back before anyone notices part of the world has not moved since he left.

Absence from those we love is self from self - a deadly banishment.

And hate the bright stillness of the noon without wind, without motion. the only other living thing a hawk, hungry for prey, suspended in the blinding, sunlit blue. And yet how gentle it seems to someone raised in a landscape short of rain- the skyline of a hill broken by no more trees than one can count, the grass, the empty sky, the wish for water.

I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you; of squeezing it into little inkdrops, And posting it.

The hollowness was in his arms and the world was snowing.

Her mind was present because she was always gone. Her hands were filled because they grasped the meaning of empty. Life was simple. Her husband returned and she served him with indifferent patience this time. When he asked what had happened to her heat for him, she gestured to the west. The sun was setting. The sky was a body of fire.

Our reason has driven all away. Alone at last, we end up ruling over a desert.