Chelsea Quotes
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Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning, and the first thing that I knew There was milk and
toast and honey and a bowl of oranges, too. And the sun poured
in like butterscotch and stuck to all my senses.
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More Chelsea Quotes
And I'm tired of living here in this hotel,Snow and the rain falling through the sheets.In fact, I'm tired of 23rd Street.Strung out like some Christmas lightsOut there in the Chelsea night.
ryan adams— Hotel Chelsea Nights
Since the great days of Jimmy Greaves, it's the only time anyone's managed to score five times in a Chelsea shirt.
lord stratford— "The wit and wisdom of Tony Banks", BBC News, 8 January 2006
— after a kiss-and-tell story appeared detailing how former Conservative minister David Mellor, his close friend and fellow Chelsea fan, wore football kit during sex
Before he went to jail, it was Paul America who took a hand with Edie. Paul had been on heroin, but he had gotten off it, and as it turned out, he took up residence with Edie in the Chelsea and he got her off it as well.
edie sedgwick— Genevieve Charbin as quoted in Edie : American Girl (1982) by Jean Stein and George Plimpton
It meant a lot to me that Chelsea have wanted me for the last three years and that is the reason I chose them. It was important for me to come to a club with the same level of excellence. It is a great team and it is important to play for a great team.
andriy shevchenko— [1]
"You'll never be wanted," [a draft board official] said, and thrust at me a smaller piece of paper. This described me as being incapable of being graded in grades A, B, etc., because I suffered from sexual perversion. When the story of my disgrace became one of the contemporary fables of Chelsea, a certain Miss Marshall said, "I don't much care for the expression 'suffering from.' Shouldn't it be 'glorying in'?"
Quentin Crisp— Ch. 16 (The Naked Civil Servant (1968))
The city overwhelmed our expectations. The Kiplingesque grandeur of Waterloo Station, the Eliotic despondency of the brick row in Chelsea … the Dickensian nightmare of fog and sweating pavement and besmirched cornices.
john updike— On London, in “A Madman,” New Yorker (22 December 1962)
