Short Red Hot Chili Peppers Quotes

Space may be the final frontier but it's made in a Hollywood basement. ~ Red Hot Chili Peppers

The more I see, the less I know, the more I'd like to let it go. ~ The Red Hot Chili Peppers

You want to fuck the singer, but you would suck on any of them. A rim job, a piss shower, wouldn't matter. The band plays in nothing but tube socks hung over their cocks and sacks. They can make the socks swing like giant tittie tassels. You've never seen anything so sexy. ~ Amanda Boyden

One day, I'll be listening to a bunch of Ray Charles, the next day it's nothing but Red Hot Chili Peppers. The next day it might be Tupac all day. ~ J. Cole

The more I see, the less I know. ~ Michael Franti

Had Kurt Cobain not committed suicide in 1994, would his genius have survived the continuous incisions of a media that was only too proud of its ability to chisel away at his fragile psyche in the years before he decided that he'd had enough off their invasions? And, had Jimi Hendrix not passed way in 1970, would he, too have eventually fallen into decline, first equalled, then eclipsed by the brilliant wave of new guitarists: Robin Trower, Ritchie Blackmore, Mick Ronson, who emerged during the early 1970s? In death, Hendrix led by example: in life he could have been left for the dead. ~ Dave Thompson

But see, my idea on the whole thing is, hey, it's not the responsibility of marginalized, oppressed people to educate everyone. I personally wouldn't put myself in that position and go out there and do my schtick in front of the Red Hot Chili Peppers fan guys ... because, you know ... ~ Kathleen Hanna

I'm forever near a stereo saying, 'What the fuck is this garbage?' And the answer is always the Red Hot Chili Peppers. ~ Nick Cave

I listened to all the Misfits albums growing up and Red Hot Chili Peppers, too. ~ Jose Gonzalez

This is my dream. I ain't giving up. I see a band like the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and they've had their ups and downs, but they've continued with heart. We look up to that. I see Papa Roach being around for another 15 years. We've always wanted to be a career band. ~ Jacoby Shaddix

George,
we're the Red Hot Chili Peppers, we're from Hollywood, California,
we're really hard-rocking motherfuckers, and we think you
should produce our record. ~ Anthony Kiedis

This Life is More than Just a read through. ~ Anthony Kiedis

This is the thing about school dances. They make like it's supposed to be this other-worldly thing, but really it's just the people you see every day dressed up, standing in the gym in the dark with Red Hot Chili Peppers playing. ~ Mariko Tamaki

Dropkick Murphys get me going, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Nirvana ... plus, all the regular hip-hop stuff. ~ Kobe Bryant

I watched John Frusciante of the Red Hot Chili Peppers play it acoustically at their gig at the MEN Arena. I think I can safely say that, of the 19,000 people there, 18,950 didn't know what it was - but I did, and it brought a tear to my eye, definitely. Monster bass line. A bass line that every bass player dreams of and I got it, so thank you. ~ Peter Hook

My music is rock. I listen to Red Hot Chili Peppers and I listen to one of my songs, and if I don't give you the same emotion, then I go back and re-spit. ~ Kanye West

Your heart is stronger than your head. ~ Red Hot Chili Peppers

I got dosed by you and
Closer than most to you and
What am I supposed to do
Take it away I never had it anyway ~ Red Hot Chili Peppers

Laura made a great chili. She used lean meat, dark kidney beans, carrots cut small, a bottle or so of dark beer, and freshly sliced hot peppers. She would let the chili cook for a while, then add red wine, lemon juice and a pitch of fresh dill, and, finally, measure out and add her chili powders. On more than one occasion Shadow had tried to get her to show him how she made it: he would watch everything she did, from slicing the onions and dropping them into the olive oil at the bottom of the pot. He had even written down the recipe, ingredient by ingredient, and he had once made Laura's chili for himself on a weekend when she had been out of town. It had tasted okay-it was certainly edible, but it had not been Laura's chili. ~ Neil Gaiman

The afternoon was very hot, so hot that the breaking of the waves on the shore sounded like the repeated sigh of some exhausted creature, and even on the terrace under an awning the bricks were hot, and the air danced perpetually over the short dry grass. The red flowers in the stone basins were drooping with the heat, and the white blossoms which had been so smooth and thick only a few weeks ago were now dry, and their edges were curled and yellow. Only the stiff and hostile plants of the south, whose fleshy leaves seemed to be grown upon spines, still remained standing upright and defied the sun to beat them down. ~ Virginia Woolf

Metaphors think with the imagination and the senses. The hot chili peppers in them explode in the mouth and the mind. ~ Jane Hirshfield

Then I stared at Arnold's bánh mì. The oil had yellowed the bread. Cartoonishly red hot sauce crisscrossed juicy chunks of chicken. It was topped with shredded coriander, chopped chilies, and translucent slivers of onion. I lifted my spoon, and then I heard myself speak.
"Can I have that?" I put down my spoon and pointed at Arnold's sandwich.
"What?" Arnold replied.
"Your sandwich? Can we switch, please? I don't want this soup. I don't know why I asked for it."
I lifted up my bowl and handed it over. Arnold received it because he had no choice and watched as I lifted up his bánh mì and deposited it in front of myself. I wrapped both hands around it and took a large bite before he could protest. I felt the tiny slices of chili deliciously tingle my lips. I made a full-bodied sound to demonstrate my pleasure. ~ Lara Williams

Over a bowl of steaming feu, Chinese noodle soup, Mon kept talking. As always, the soup was served with a plate piled high with fresh greens - cilantro and mint, bean sprouts and lemon - that one added for taste. On the table sat an assortment of Lao and Thai condiments like fish paste, chili peppers, and hot sauce. I usually stayed away from these deadly bottles. Mon, on the other hand, dumped a healthy dose of each into her bowl. Just one ~ Brett Dakin

Charlotte, dressed in a very short-skirted policewoman's outfit, was leading a dancing brigade, jumping around at the front of the room, her long red hair flapping up and down like a matador's cape. She was head girl, and she would shows us how to party if she had to.
I wasn't really sure why Charlotte had decided to come to the party as a stripper. I found myself at a loss for words as she complimented us on our costumes.
"You're a..." I tried to find the right thing to say. "Really...hot cop?"
"I'm Amy Pond," she said. "From Doctor Who. This is her kissogram outfit. ~ Maureen Johnson

Well, let's all get maudlin, shall we? George, stop on the way and get us some red-hot pokers to put out our eyes. Oh, and while you're at it, I think we should see about adding salt for our wounds, too. (Solin)
Quite good, sir. Is there any particular place you'd care for me to stop? I've heard the market is a good place for pokers. That is, if you're agreeable to a short detour. (George)
What do you two think? Run-of-the-mill pokers, or a better quality. Oh hell, why not use rusty spoons. They'd hurt more. (Solin) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

A little blue-eyed blonde in a red hot sweater, wants to spice my chili, I think I'll let her. ~ Toby Keith

Winter came in days that were gray and still. They were the kind of days in which people locked in their animals and themselves and nothing seemed to stir but the smoke curling upwards from clay chimneys and an occasional red-winged blackbird which refused to be grounded. And it was cold. Not the windy cold like Uncle Hammer said swept the northern winter, but a frosty, idle cold that seeped across a hot land ever lookung toward the days of green and ripening fields, a cold thay lay uneasy during during its short stay as it crept through the cracks of poorly constucted houses and forced the people inside huddled around ever-burning fires to wish it gone. ~ Mildred D. Taylor

10-16-13
I, soaking in the bath, O on the toilet, talking, talking about what he's been thinking and writing- short personal pieces, a memoir perhaps. He had brought with him two pillows to sit on and a very large red apple. He opens his mouth wide and takes a gigantic bite. I watch him chewing for quite a while. After he finishes, 'Bite me off a piece', I say. He does so, dislodges the apple from his mouth, and puts the piece in my mouth. We keep talking. I add more hot water. Every other bite, he gives to me.
There is a quiet moment, and then, seemingly apropos of nothing, O says: 'I am glad to be on planet Earth with you. It would be so much lonelier otherwise.'
I reach for his hand and hold it,
'I, too,' I say. ~ Bill Hayes

It struck me that Lee was in many ways our true hero. Lee was the one who did the dirtiest jobs, quietly, without fuss, without going into big emotional scenes. He was so efficient, so reliable, so brave. Whenever we fell short, he made up the gap. I'm not just talking about the red hot moments, when enemy soldiers were shooting at us, when we were within a moment of death. I'm talking about the sourer times too, when we were so tired we could hardly remember to breathe, or we were so bored we'd pick at each other just for something to do, or so distressed we'd wish a soldier would come along and blow us into oblivion with an M16. At all those times Lee stood strong. He was like the Wirrawee grain silo. You could see the grain silo from miles away, tall and reliable. It stood for Wirrawee, and it gave you a safe comforting feeling to know it was there. That was how I'd felt about Lee during the war. ~ John Marsden

In the window I smelled all the food of San Francisco. There were seafood places out there where the buns were hot, and the baskets were good enough to eat too; where the menus themselves were soft with foody esculence as though dipped in hot broths and roasted dry and good enough to eat too. Just show me the bluefish spangle on a seafood menu and I'd eat it; let me smell the drawn butter and lobster claws. There were places where they specialized in thick and red roast beef au jus, or roast chicken basted in wine. There were places where hamburgs sizzled on grills and the coffee was only a nickel. And oh, that pan-fried chow mein flavored air that blew into my room from Chinatown, vying with the spaghetti sauces of North Beach, the soft-shell crab of Fisherman's Wharf  -  nay, the ribs of Fillmore turning on spits! Throw in the Market Street chili beans, redhot, and french-fried potatoes of the Embarcadero wino night, and steamed clams from Sausalito across the bay, and that's my ah-dream of San Francisco… ~ Jack Kerouac