Walkman was the precursor to the cell phone, in terms of your strategy for getting through the urban landscape and the modern experience. Insulate yourself from it with your own soundscape.
I discovered lots of music; electronic synth bands from the mid-'80s like Depeche Mode, Soft Cell and Cabaret Voltaire. My friends and I used to take two-hour trips to the record store in Newcastle and we started buying copies of The Face and i-D. And then I went to art school and as time progressed, I ended up where I am now.
Women of child-bearing age steadily run out of eggs by the continuous process of cell death. While reading a copy of the Guardian carefully from cover to cover, a normal woman will have lost on average two eggs - while, typically, a normal man will have made 70,000 new sperm.
. . . it doesn't matter if you can't get a cell phone signal or Wi-Fi where you are. You are always connected to Source.
It is impossible to go through life without trust: that is to be imprisoned in the worst cell of all, oneself.
I made my first website when I was ten. I flirted using instant messages all throughout high school. I like the Internet. I like cuddling. I like my cell phone. I like awkward eye contact with strangers. I like hearing people's voices. I like parties. I like Craigslist. These things don't seem technologically exclusive to me.
Death is the only monastery; the tomb is the only cell, and the grave that adjoins the convent is the bitterest mock of its futility.
Everybody who works in the computer industry is in an industry that didn't exist twenty-five years ago. We are talking on cell phones, and there were no such things. All the people who work for Nextel and so on, those are lost jobs that became found jobs. We are in a constant state of changing, and there are numerous opportunities in a time like this, but people are still going back to the fear.
I use my cell phone as much as I can - I talk to friends all the time. I'm like 2,000 hours a month. It's crazy
Open office plans, cell phones, constant notifications: these are all things that fight against sustained attention on a task. For some people and some tasks, that doesn't matter. But for a lot of important work, it matters a lot.
He thinks he's happy but it's just a nerve cell in his brain that's getting too much stimulation or too little stimulation.
Am I caught in a self-centred, narrow little cell which refuses to look beyond? Do I see it when you come along and tell me that my brain is the brain of all mankind?
It is plain that there is no separate essence called courage, no cup or cell in the brain, no vessel in the heart containing drops or atoms that make or give this virtue; but it is the right or healthy state of every man, when he is free to do that which is constitutional to him to do.
Your mind is in every cell of your body.
Every cell in your body is seeking fulfillment through joy, beauty, love and appreciation.
A—ris—ta?” Degan asked, sounding horse. “What is it?” “A rat bit me,” she said, once again shocked by her own rasping voice. “Jasper does that if—” Gaunt coughed and hacked. After a moment, he spoke again. “If he thinks you’re dead or too weak to fight. ” “Jasper?” “I call him that, but I’ve also named the stones in my cell. ” “I only counted mine,” Arista said. “Two hundred and thirty-four,” Degan replied instantly. “I have two hundred and twenty-eight. ” “Did you count the cracked ones as two?” “No.
I pity the babies whose mothers are busy texting trivialities instead of playing with their children; I pity the children who are tethered to their cell phones instead of playing ball; I pity the adolescents who are wasting their best years holding one of those artefacts instead of the hand of another young person.
We all know the feeling of surrendering to the embedded biases of our devices. We let our cell phones ping us every time there's an incoming message and check our e-mail even when we'd best pay attention to what's going on around us in the real world. We text while driving.
You heard about, through word of mouth, Big Bird is out, he's in the house. He's turnin' up, with Snuffleup, They're really gettin' their hustle up. They stick together like Velcro, There Grover go, there's Elmo. And Cookie Monster there, look he likes To take selfies with his cell phone. They got a homegirl named Abby, Her last name is Cadabby, I showed her my report card, She said, 'Not too shabby!' They got all types of cool kids there, It's lots of fun if you live there, One thing I keep forgettin' about Sesame Street. . . How do you get there?
The weariness of the cell is the vigour of the organism.