Madison Avenue is a very powerful aggression against private consciousness. A demand that you yield your private consciousness to public manipulation.

World War III is a guerrilla information war with no division between military and civilian participation.

There are no passengers on spaceship earth. We are all crew.

As technology advances, it reverses the characteristics of every situation again and again. The age of automation is going to be the age of 'do it yourself.'

Obsolescence never meant the end of anything, it's just the beginning.

Publication is a self-invasion of privacy.

The modern Little Red Riding Hood, reared on singing commercials, has no objection to being eaten by the wolf.

The computer is the most extraordinary of man's technological clothing; it's an extension of our central nervous system. Beside it, the wheel is a mere hula-hoop.

We look at the present through a rear view mirror. We march backwards into the future.

In an age of multiple and massive innovations, obsolescence becomes the major obsession.

Politics will eventually be replaced by imagery. The politician will be only too happy to abdicate in favor of his image, because the image will be so much more powerful than he could ever be.

Remember, there is no peace without peaceful exchange.

Bear no malice for the ones who leave you.

Between Prince and my dad's fusion-jazz records, I didn't have a choice in being funky.

We don't mind working hard to be successful. We don't mind working to be at our best.

It is the hour of pearl—the interval between day and night when time stops and examines itself.

I aim for weekly routines with clear goals but make sure I do some stuff that I think I'll value in the long run.

Numbers have a way of taking a man by the hand and leading him down the path of reason.

Self-consciousness, that's what it is. Always my abiding vice. I keep seeing myself. Me watching myself watching others watch me. How do you lose that? What's the trick?

I'm from the same planet as David Bowie.

Biography is the mesh through which real life escapes.