Julia Holter Quotes

People drive everywhere in L.A., so you get very little human interaction... but N.Y. and Chicago are like London... L.A. lacks the social interaction.

Where I'm from, Toronto, is a big city.

living in Los Angeles was like being an extra in a movie that was starring other people entirely.

I love New York City. Everyone is busy with their own lives - and no one is interested in some Hollywood celebrity walking past in downtown Manhattan. That's why it's my favorite city. You can do what you want without attracting a crowd of curious onlookers.

What I love about New York is that everyone is in their own world. It's the opposite of L.A. - there, everyone is looking outside of themselves to see who's next to them. What's great about New York is that you get to be anonymous.

It's hard to bury your head in Los Angeles. People come up to you and say, 'Hey, I saw your picture on a bus.' It's tricky: You're excited by the possibilities, but you don't want to get too crazy.

I had a dream of music and art and the big city in which I would get lost, where no one would know me and I wouldn't know anyone, where I would work at some ordinary job, and if one day I got up in the morning and decided I wasn't going to go to work anymore, no one would ask questions.

People are so busy anyway they don't see you or recognise you in the street.

I love New York City. Everyone is busy with their own lives - and no one is interested in some Hollywood celebrity walking past in downtown Manhattan.

I've always lived in a city. I'm very social, and in a place like New York, even if you're alone on the subway, you never feel lonely.

The reason I like Portland is the idea of going to a supermarket and knowing there's no way to be recognized. L.A. is so social.

I liked Los Angeles for odd reasons. For one, there was no sense of community. You were really left to your own resources, spending this inordinate amount of time alone in a balloon of an automobile. I liked that a lot.

What attracted me to New York was there was an anonymity that I couldn't always have in Los Angeles, and it was easier to blend in there. The more successful you are, the less you are able to do that.

One thing about New York is you can understand how you're perceived really easily if you just get on the train, by the way people look at you.

The weird thing about the subway is no one looks at each other. So I play the O2 in London. It's a 20,000 capacity venue, and then I'll take the subway to my gig, and everyone's going to my gig, and no one looks at you. If anyone does, they say, 'Hey, you look exactly like James Blunt, only smaller.'

It's always been my dream to come to L.A.

In New York you can actually run into people on the street, unlike in California where you're always in the car.

I changed my mind about being a famous pop star when I realised that it meant I'd never be able to get on the Tube again.

Los Angeles is one of those places where somebodies become nobodies and nobodies become somebody.

As I holed up in the City of Angels, I was also aware of a comforting feeling of anonymity. In the world's biggest third-class city I could pass unnoticed. I spoke the language. I was familiar with the currency. I could drink the water. I could almost breathe the air, late April air, compounded of interesting hydrocarbons.

What is the purpose of a city if not to grant the greatest of gifts, anonymity?

Welcome to New York, where everybody's a stranger, and nobody is.

The roar of the traffic, the passage of undifferentiated faces, this way and that way, drugs me into dreams; rubs the features from faces. People might walk through me. And what is this moment of time, this particular day in which I have found myself caught? The growl of traffic might be any uproar - forest trees or the roar of wild beasts. Time has whizzed back an inch or two on its reel; our short progress has been cancelled. I think also that our bodies are in truth naked. We are only lightly covered with buttoned cloth; and beneath these pavements are shells, bones and silence.

[On living in New York City:] I'm oblivious to everything. I just don't notice anything. I sat in a coffee shop, drank half a cup of coffee before I noticed there was lipstick on the cup. There was wadded-up gum and lipstick on the napkin. I must have been sitting on that woman's lap for an hour.

If people come up to me, I'm going to be nice to them. Essentially, the assumption is that they support what I do. If I met someone I'd be like, "Hey, I respect your art or your work," and then that's it - let's not go beyond that. But sometimes people are like, "What's going on, man?" "I'm on the street, and we've never met before."