I didn't know what I was. I didn't have a noun.

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.

Yes, reason has been a part of organized religion, ever since two nudists took dietary advice from a talking snake.

To improve the golden moment of opportunity, and catch the good that is within our reach, is the great art of life.

In high school I wanted to be a rock star and was in a lot of bands.

Instantly available without continuous presence is probably the best role a mother can play.

Interestingly, songs used to be short, then they became longer, and now they're getting shorter.

I confess I enjoy democracy immensely. It is incomparably idiotic, and hence incomparably amusing.

When we eat vegetarian foods, we needn't worry about what kind of disease our food died from; this makes a joyful meal!

This is not a brook [Bach means "brook" in German], it's an ocean.

Rather I fear on the contrary that while we banish painful thoughts we may banish memory as well.