Ian Curtis Quotes
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Existence is.. well.. what does it matter? I exist on the best terms I can. The past is now part of my future. The present is well out of hand.
Reality is only a term, based on values and well worn principles, whereas the dream goes on forever.
I struggle between what I know is right in my own mind, and some warped truthfulness as seen through other people's eyes who have no heart, and can't see the difference anyway.
When routine bites hard, and ambitions are low. When resentment rides high, but emotion won't grow...and we're changing our ways, taking different roads. Love will tear us apart.
We're changing our ways, taking different roads, and love will tear us apart again.
I used to work in a factory and I was really happy because I could daydream all day.
Pictures all around, of how good a life should be, a model for the rest, that bred insecurity, I walked a jagged line and then came back for more, it's always in my mind, an institution with no law.
All my lyrics are open to interpretation by the individual and imply many different meanings, therefore their relevance is purely subjective.
Well, subconsciously I suppose some things must stick but I'm not influenced consciously by them.
Love, love will tear us apart, again.
I like the groups on Factory, A Certain Ratio and Section 25. I
I tend not to listen. When I'm listening to records, I don't listen to much new wave stuff, I tend to listen to the stuff I used to listen to a few years back but sort of odd singles.
We said we'd never tour ... and we'll never do a tour, I don't think - or if we do it won't be longer than about two weeks.
Autumn arrived and life was in danger of becoming boring again.
We don't want to give people straight answers. We'd rather they question things for themselves.
Ian was living in fairyland and in our own way we all helped him to stay there.
No one realized that, being left out in the cold, I was also very much in the dark.
I'm sure we all have dreams of leaving at some time in our lives, but when we reach the bottom, most of us go running home.
How unhappy does one have to be before living seems worse than dying?