Every mix tape tells a story. Put them together, and they add up to the story of life.

When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other.

In my headphones, I led a life of romance and incident and intrigue, none of which had anything to do with the world outside my Walkman.

Tonight, I feel like my whole body is made out of memories. I'm a mix-tape, a cassette that's been rewound so many times you can hear the fingerprints smudged on the tape.

Anyone watching '30 Rock' always knew Tina Fey was playing a fictionalized version of herself, a workaholic comedy writer who also plays one on TV. She's the boss; Liz Lemon just works here.

Our lives were just beginning, our favorite moment was right now, our favorite songs were unwritten.

But bringing people together is what music has always done best.

Love dies in many different ways, and it's natural for the grass to seem greener on the other side. But it's not a competition; there's plenty of pain to go around.

You can hear the Celtic heartbeat all over Europe and America, from Bing Crosby to Jack White, from the Smiths to My Bloody Valentine, from House of Pain to Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch.

There are all kinds of mix tapes. there is always a reason to make one.

Thanks to the greatest invention of recent years, the MP3-playing alarm clock, I can now choose the song that wakes me up in the morning.

Ah! Your eyes are lighting the moon with the silvery lights of love.

Sometime they'll give a war and nobody will come.

Violence will only increase the cycle of violence.

Getting the role like this is such awonderful opportunity... I remember looking in the mirror and going 'I'm superman'.

Reasons never matter, once Death comes cold and bold and takes the living by the hand. You count up your dead, every one.

Going around under an umbrella interferes with one's looking up at the sky.

How gladly would I meet mortality, my sentence, and be earth in sensible! How glad would lay me down, as in my mother's lap! There I should rest, and sleep secure.

This guy don't come to the ballpark to beat you. He comes to beat you bad. This (Jackie) Robinson, he plays a ton.

write what readers want to read, which isn’t necessarily what you want to write.

I kept having dreams all night. I thought they were touching me with their fingers. But dreams don't have fingers, they have fists, so it must have been scorpions.