I could not believe it when I woke up this morning and saw that Lemmy had passed.
If anybody was going to be immortal, it would have been him. His veins were filled with Jack (Daniels), and his lungs were carved from tobacco.
A living, breathing, singing, snorting, mother fucking legend.
I found Motörhead later in life, well, in my twenties, but I found myself in their lyrics. There was something to the words that resonated in me more than anything I had felt before.
Any age is too young, but seventy really is just that. Far too young. For his death to come so close to that of Phil Taylor is a real kick in the nuts.
Heaven is fucking rocking tonight, that is for damned sure.
A legend can never die, and Lemmy was rock and roll, so dont be sad, for today, God went home.
Born to Lose, Live to Win
Rock in Peace Lemmy, and give em hell.
Official Site of Alex Laybourne - Author 
I found this extremely depressing, both because I’m going to miss the man and his music (“Who wins in a fight between Lemmy and God? Trick question! Lemmy is God!” – Airheads) but also because it just reminded me that I’m getting old; the worry that my other rock idols (Alice Cooper, Ozzy, Meat Loaf, Rob Halford, for example) are probably going to be going out in the near future as well is just… sad. Very unfortunate.
Yes, it is a big loss on many levels. It is a sad confirmation that time is indeed marching ever onwards. No matter how hard we try to resist, there can be no stopping old father time.
I have read about his last few days, and all it does is cement his place as a legend.
A well read, self educated man who lived the life he wanted.