Old Rose: [about Jack drawing her naked] My heart was pounding the whole time. It was the most erotic moment of my life. Up until then, at least. Lewis Bodine: So what happened next? Old Rose: You mean, did we "do it"? Sorry to disappoint you Mr. Bod...
I like Kelela. I like Twigs. I love the more old school; I hate to say old school, but I love Peaches; I love Peaches, I love Cat Power. And there's constantly new things coming up. But there's something so beautifully powerful - for me being a woman...
Penny Lane: How old are you? William Miller: Eighteen. Penny Lane: Me too! How old are we really? William Miller: Seventeen. Penny Lane: Me too! William Miller: Actually, I'm sixteen. Penny Lane: Me too. Isn't it funny? The truth just sounds differen...
Richard Vernon: You think about this: when you get old, these kids - when *I* get old - they're going to be running the country. Carl: Yeah. Richard Vernon: Now this is the thought that wakes me up in the middle of the night. That when I get older, t...
Schism in the soul, schism in the body social, will not be resolved by any scheme to return to the good old days (archaism), or by programs guaranteed to render an ideal projected future (futurism), or even by the most realistic, hardheaded work to w...
Everyday, in our quest to grab the new, the trendy, the coolest stuff, we forget to use the old and our daily lives become stuck in the vicious cycle, chasing after stuff without working the old. Today, pause, slow down, take time, revisit those less...
...how time packs new years over the old ones but how those old years are still in there, like the earliest, tightest rings centering a tree, the most hidden, enclosed in darkness and shielded from weather. But then a saw screams in and the tree topp...
Her laughter was an upbeat song set to a minor key.
It's amazing when you're playing to a crowd who barely understands English but they're singing parts of your song back to you.
You can be very efficient with lyrics, and you can get the heart fluttering or soaring or make someone cry with a really amazing dance song.
I find so many songwriters today are missing an element... either the production is amazing but the songs aren't, or it's the other way around.
Songwriting is a mysterious art. When I sit down to write a song, the end result should be mysterious and have this dark quality.
Dream Song: In the heavens A noise, Like the rustling of the trees.
The hard way is my favorite way to learn.
Live not for Battles Won. Live not for The-End-of-the-Song. Live in the along.
Let the park live in you until it sings you a song.
You’re a princess. And princesses are never nervous. Princesses are brave and pretty and fearless.
World of harmony and peace I see it just over there Right there.
Limitations are possibilities . . . Opportunities to perceive ourselves Beyond our present selves . . .
Tolerence ought to be humanities community and knowledge should be an individuals goal.
Change not only was inevitable, but usually brought its own rewards.
