Dialogue in the works of autobiography is quite naturally viewed with some suspicion. How on earth can the writer remember verbatim conversations that happened fifteen, twenty, fifty years ago? But 'A...
Den musik man redan har räcker inte en hel livstid, inte om man lyssnar på musik varje dag och så fort man kommer åt.
Definitely avoid going out with ugly girls who say they want to be models. Not because they're ugly, but because they're mad.
About Love)The most important thing in life, and you can't tell whether people have it or not. Surely this is wrong? Surely people who are happy should look happy, at all times, no matter how much mon...
It's music rage, which is like road rage, only more righteous. When you get road rage, a tiny part of you knows you're being a jerk, but when you get music rage, you're carrying out the will of God, a...
Только история вынесет приговор - станет ли мисс Фуртадо большим художником, и хотя я подозреваю, что вряд ли она решительно изменила мой взгляд на мир, я думаю это не так важно: я всегда буду ей приз...
What you don't ever catch a glimpse of on your wedding day - because how could you? - is that some days you will hate your spouse, that you will look at him and regret ever changing a word with him, l...
What came first, the music or the misery? Did I listen to music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to music? Do all those records turn you into a melancholy person?People w...
Well, I'd like my life to be like a Bruce Springsteen song.
We laughed. Ha, ha, we went. Ha, ha, ha. I’m not laughing now. Never has a joke filled me with such nausea and paranoia and insecurity and self-pity and dread and doubt.
Tuesday night I reorganized my record collection. I often do this at periods of emotional stress. There are some people who would find this a pretty dull way to spend an evening, but I'm not one of th...
This is the second Simply Red song on this tape. One's unforgivable. Two's a war crime. Can I fast-forward?
They were expressions of who he was and what he’d become, and he couldn’t do anything about any of it, apart from retrace his steps back and back and back, until he was fifteen or ten or three years o...
They were all waiting for a man. Men were going to scoop them up in a net and take them home and put them into an even smaller tank. Not all of them were waiting to find a man, because some of them ha...
There was the same need for obscurity, the same suspicion that if a piece of music had reached a large number of people, it had somehow been drained of its worth.
There aren’t too many candlelit dinners and second honeymoons, I can tell you. We’re beyond all that. We’re good friends more than anything.
So what should I be doing? I don’t know. Something. Working. Seeing people. Running a scout troop, or running a club even. Something more than waiting for life to change and keeping your options open....
She would go home and marry a man who owned carpet shops, and she would bear his children, and he would take other women to nightclubs, and she would get old and die and hope for better luck next time...
Seeing as he wasn’t very bright, I was pretty sure that he was going to be good at fighting.
Reciprocation was a pretty powerful stimulant to the imagination.