The lust of gold succeeds the rage of conquest; The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless! The last corruption of degenerate man.
Music is a work in progress. On a record, it gets frozen in time. And it's oddly unnatural.
I thought everybody could sing, because everybody in my family could.
I'm a chameleon. I can change my voice a lot. I always was able to, because in my family's music I was a harmony singer, and harmony singing is really hard.
I believe in the empirical wisdom of science, just to start with, so I hope that there might be some treatment out there that might be helpful.
When you sing the same song over and over and over again, it stops meaning what it originally meant to you. It starts sounding like white noise, or my washing machine.
We've got blue light, we've got all this light flooding our bedrooms and things blinking, and you can't get a decent night's sleep.
The panoplied warrior of truth and nonviolence is ever and incessantly active.
Think what a great world revolution will take place when. . . [there are] millions of guys all over the world with rucksacks on their backs tramping around the back country.
Where a generation ago people felt entitled to a chance at education, they now feel entitled to the credential affirming that they have completed a course of study regardless of their actual mastery.
And the poorest twig on the elm-tree was ridged inch deep with pearl.