Jorge Garcia Quotes

A single note, held in an amber suspension of time, like a charcoal drawing of Icarus falling. It was sad and fierce all at once, alive with a lonely purity. It went on and on, until my own lungs were burning. “What bird are you calling?” I asked finally, when I couldn’t stand it any longer. The Bird Man stopped whistling. He grinned, so that I could see all his pebbly teeth. “You.

I like to capture moments. It's like a photograph. Ten years from now you look at the photograph and you don't remember it but rather the whole week or month around the photo.

Music is a soundtrack for your life. You hear some tune and you just get swept right back to that point in your life.

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

I was born in the 50s, my mom was pregnant in the 50s, [Frank] Sinatra had that big come back around then, From Here to Eternity.

Last year we drove across the country...We had one cassette tape to listen to on the entire trip... I don't remember what it was.

I have my ship, and all her flags are a-flying. She is all that I have left, and music is her name.

I miss THE WALLFLOWERS. Great band. Wrote my first Fan letter to them. No response.

To me, nostalgia is nothing more than a mindless plundering of the past for the commonplace.

Something touched me deep inside The day the music died.

She was the music heard faintly on the edge of sound.

Smells, like music, hold memories. She breathed deep, and bottled it up for posterity.

I'd got married and wanted to have kids, so had kids, brought them up, did other things, and slowly got back into music. And it feels great, having one foot in the present, writing and covering interesting songs, and having one foot in the past.

When I was 16 I got a school holiday job at Minton's pottery factory in Staffordshire, packing plates. For a month's work, I was paid £44. Everything I now know about the birds and the bees, I learnt there.

Who put the bomp in the bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp-bomp, who put the ram in the rama-lama-ding-dong?

You want to dance. You want to sing. Yeah, that feeling, of course, is beyond recollection really.

I did a load of medicine cabinets a long time ago and I named them after Sex Pistols songs. I suppose I must be getting old if I'm naming work after Philip Larkin poems.

Every one of those old songs like "What's My Age Again?" and "All the Small Things" is like a tattoo or a scrapbook or an old photograph. There are just songs that define certain moments in your life. Everyone has a song that got them through a bad breakup or they put on and it made them feel like they wanted to go out and kick the world's ass with their friends on a weekend. Those songs still feel like that to me.

If i were to lose my memories, I would rely on music. There is so much of my story embedded in each.

Mia and I had been together for more than two years, and yes, it was a high school romance, but it was still the kind of romance where I thought we were trying to find a way to make it forever, the kind that, had we met five years later and had she not been some cello prodigy and had I not been in a band on the rise - or had our lives not been ripped apart by all this -I was pretty sure it would've been.

Sometimes I just play the theme from Arthur. It reminds me of my childhood in New York and I just love it.

The only thing I would change is during the summer - when I was working my summer job, if I was smart, I would have taken flying lessons at Auburn.

So after a lovely family Xmas day, this 80s teen is off to bed feeling a bit sad, but listening to this masterpiece [George Michael: I can't make you love me].

After I get dolled up and lay down some records and my voice is out, I want to get away and get my back blown out for like a week. Mess up the hair and make-up that I got done. I have been in prison for a while.