Moz, as we have all heard about your scrapes with cancer (pardon the pun) you need to know that the overpowering love and warmth directed towards you (even on solo) has reached astronomical heights, you keep on going mate and we will all stand by you, chin up, you are not alone
Get well soon Moz
All my best wishes for your recovery Steven Patrick. Really really love you man. Just a few words but full of hope, love and appreciation. There’s a light that never goes out Moz. x
Rod, from Uruguay.
September 20, 2014 at 2:09am
Cannot subscribe any audio file…
See you in Florence,
Clara [almost 5-year-old]
September 6, 2014 at 7:49am
Thank you for standing up…(orig. title)
How surprised i was to see all the letters written during the “Harvest Era”, wiped out of existence.Thanks to whoever is keeping letters going.;-) Anyway its Morrissey we write to, not champagne swilling execs.:-)
Delighted to see the forthcoming gig at the new 3Arena happening in December, good luck willing.
Once again thank you Morrissey for supporting the unfortunate of us who know where this world is headed if things stay as they are, And you are so right: World Peace Is None Of Our Business & you are the quarry for the lost souls on here. Its enlightening to see such love about our Idol.
My fingers will stay crossed until December 1st 2014.
A life-long balding fan,
John J- Dublin
September 4, 2014 at 5:32am
I love you Moz :-) A drawing for you :-) I hope to see you one day, in a concert, even if it won’t be for this time, on account of Fate…
August 21, 2014 at 8:31am
First off, I’d like to say there is something wrong with the fact that your name while I’m typing this is underlined in red. How can a name so great and powerful and life-altering be unrecognized as a legitimate word?
Secondly, I’d like to say thank you. You have transformed all of my thoughts, and made me start reading Oscar Wilde. He is now my favorite author. This past year, 7th grade at a school full of snobs (I’ve heard all the rich kids discussing which cruise line they preferred), I had the misfortune of having the worst teachers in the history of the world. OK, maybe not that bad. My Social Studies teacher was nice. But my math teacher yelled at kids for asking questions, refused to let us read during the time our entire school set aside for reading, and ranted about how much she hated seventh graders. My science teacher had no idea what subject she was teaching. I’m not exaggerating when I say she was learning the material just as we were. And my Language Arts teacher talked in a monotone voice. All we ever did in there was read pointless textbook entries and have debates about communism- don’t ask. In 6th grade I got over 100% in Social Studies, mid-to-low A’s in science (always has been my worst subject), 100% in Language Arts (a subject I adore) and high A’s, as high as 99%, in Math. Now I had gotten a D in Language Arts on a project I deserved an A on, and B’s in Science and Math. And those high grades were because the grade calculator was messed up.
For the first time ever, I was making bad grades. For the first time ever, I hated Language Arts. I dreaded most classes. My friends and I were making such bad grades and were so bored, we actually started a competition on who could have the worst grades. And we had all cared so much about grades in previous years! That competition was the most fun we had all year.
Anyway, because of you I started reading Oscar Wilde, and in “The Ballad of Reading Gaol” (my favorite poem) there was an example of a rhyme pattern or something we had been working on but hadn’t been able to find an example of, and for whatever reason I decided to show the work of poetic perfection to my Language Arts teacher. This is the lady who talks in a monotone voice and never shows emotion, ever. The lady who gave me a terrible grade on a project I did great on. And when she read the poem, she put her hand on her heart and started softly crying. I was amazed. I knew the poem was wonderful, and I had shed a few tears, but I never expected the “Zombie-Woman,” as we called her, to be moved by it. But she was. And all thanks to you introducing me to Wonderful Mr. Wilde. Thank you, Morrissey, for restoring my faith in humanity, and poetry, and all things good.
I love you, Moz. Thank you.
I’m currently 13 years old and stuck in the inert cycle of Highschool. Over the tall walls of a pretentious catholic school also named St Mary’s, I was welcomed to my first year with a tightening rope around my neck, pulled by a fellow student. I endured the worst of her torment. I think. I was annoyingly shy and gentle and told at least my parents. Weeks afterwards. One thing that has kept me persistent is my freedom to read your book and listen to your music in class as my teachers are too bloody lazy to teach. It never fails to please me immensely when I feel every second I spend there tears me up.
I feel as if we share the same thought on things like art, music, poetry ( things that I love, but are getting poisoned by the touch of my teachers) Also, I think how we struggled to find like-mined people to talk about these things within the halls of St Mary’s. My St Mary’s is also a cemetry for individuality and I feel as if I already have one foot in the grave. Everything you write I feel, though I could never ever compare my life to your’s and am in complete admiration of you and everything you’ve done. My parents are quiet supportive and liberal and are also keen on the idea of me liking things that could so easily be out of my reach, growing up in such a generation. As my father is british, he liked most of the bands you like and he now loves to share more of his music taste with me, knowing I will know who they are, thanks to you. Example: Roxy Music, David Bowie.
It’s irks my teachers to hear the slightest sound of Headmasters Ritual or Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now because it’s not part of their perfect plan that is oblivious to most. One particular teacher notices me reading your autobiography and I am a target for it “Reading your book again Emma?”
With a straight answer I say- “yes.” Because I don’t have to justify why, when it is quite obvious I learn more from you. I get in trouble sometimes because it’s compulsory to bring your bible everywhere. Instead I bring your greatly written autobiography. Same thing right?
I think they also despise me for reading Oscar Wilde and such poets when we are expected to bore ourselves to death listening to poems, frankly, I think Mr. Shankly could have written better.
You have no idea how much it pleases me to be writing this letter to (hopefully) you. You are an incredibly intelligent, original person, no doubt 1 in 7 billion and I think the world would improve if there were more people like you. It’s been a downward spiral for me but World Peace Is None Of Your Business eases everything. Sometimes it may not feel like this letter is to you, but the impact you’ve had on some people is inspiring. Also, I think you’ll be pleased to know there is one less meat eater now.
In reality I’m just a small girl that expects too much of the world, and I see it now. This letter was first handwritten in a room with band posters hanging on the walls and a great deal of paper and pencils lying around, just waiting for something to happen and god knows what. Thank you Moz :) for everything. Though sometimes it horrifies adults to know who I’m listening to because they are convinced I’m “too young!” And going to go “emo!”. I can only laugh because they seem to have no idea and judge your kind of music as melancholy. And that’s all. Nothing else. But I find some songs humorous at times. It’s intelligent poetry that I’m worried people my age will never get to hear thanks to all the mind-numbing, meaningless must written today. I don’t think it has to be that way.
There is only so much that can be said by text without sounding over zealous and it pains me to have to put this to an end when I have so much I want to say that writing, sometimes, can’t explain. I’m not sure if there will be a reply but I have maybe one or two very important questions! 1: When is the next time you will come and preform in Australia? It would be an honour to see you live. And 2: What really was your nickname in school? Can it really be so embarrassing!?
I’m happy, I hope you’re happy too,
To our great lord
When I couldnt’t find affordable tickets for your concert in Istanbul, Turkey , in 2012, I decided to volunteer for concert just to see you. It was wonderful, and it was the best time of my entire life. I still remember and smile the passages from your concert. You are always a source of inspration to me.When I see a double decker bus, when I visit Paris, when I something wakes me up in 5 a.m. and laughs in my face, I think about you.
People come and people go. But you always stay with me. This is the best thing about you. I adore you, with all my heart, my great lord.
With many tiny kisses,
This is from my 4 old year daughter Clara: she drew you, herself and me.
As you can see she’s drawn you twice: in the top of the paper you’re in bed with a sad face - after Boston she was so concerned about your health.
She also asked me to write what is our favourite song (First of the Gang to Die).
We love you and we can not wait for you to come to Rome.
Bless you always,
Love from Tuscany
Clara and Barbara