Yquotes.com

 

She is of course well past the stage of having to prove herself artistically. She is in possession of one of the most extraordinary song catalogs of the past half-century. Her chords break harmonic rules, have no technical names and defy Western musical theory. Her voice is an instrument that has grown sublimely heavier and huskier over the decades. . . .Once you get past the security gates, Ms. Mitchell's house feels like a pocket of middle-class comfort in the midst of zillionaire Beverly Hills. In some ways life is still as it was in 1974, when she bought the house: She has no computer, no voice mail, no cellphone and no e-mail. At one point, when we tried to remember one of her lyrics, we scrolled through my iPod. She said it was the first time she had listened to one.
--
The New York Times (February 4, 2007)

 

Joni Mitchell

» Joni Mitchell - all quotes »

Similar quotes

 

(mockingly nerdy voice) "Could I get your e-mail address maybe we could e-mail each other? (regular voice) Lemme ask you a question: If I don't want to talk to you, why would I want to hunt and peck and type to you? (mockingly nerdy voice) Oh, LOL, we're laughing out loud!"

 

Kevin Nash

 

You are all people
To whom has happened, at most a continual impact
Of external events. You have gone through life in sleep.
Never woken to the nightmare. I tell you life would be unendurable
If you were wide awake. You do not know
The noxious smell untraceable in the drains,
Inaccessible to the plumbers, that has its hour of the night; you do not know
The unspoken voice of sorrow in the ancient bedroom
At three o'clock in the morning. I am not speaking
Of my own experience, but trying to give you
Comparisons in a more familiar medium. I am the old house
With the noxious smell and the sorrow before morning,
In which all past is present, all degradation
Is unredeemable. As for what happens —
Of the past you can only see what is past,
Not what is always present. That is what matters.

 

Thomas Stearns (T. S.) Eliot

 

This was the past and it was the dead past; there were only corpses in it — and perhaps not even corpses, but the shadows of those corpses. For the dead trees and the fence posts and the bridges and the buildings on the hill all would classify as shadows. There was no life here; the life was up ahead. Life must occupy but a single point in time, and as time moved forward, life moved with it. And so was gone, thought Blaine, any dream that Man might have ever held of visiting the past and living in the action and the thought and the viewpoint of men who'd long been dust. For the living past did not exist, nor did the human past except in the records of the past. The present was the only valid point for life — life kept moving on, keeping pace with the present, and once it had passed, all traces of it or its existences were carefully erased.

 

Clifford D. Simak

 

Every neighborhood on the planet has a house like this on the block. We've all driven past it. A bunch of people living there, too old to be kids, but never gonna be adults... You can tell that by the "AEROSMITH ROCKS" banner in the living room window... Four sociopathic pitbulls roaming the yard at all times... The brown one has one leg, just flops to the fence every couple of hours... You can tell when the family's doubled their net worth 'cause they parked a new gutted Chevelle in the driveway... The mailman's afraid to bring the mail, so he just gives it to the cops, 'cause hell, they're gonna be there anyway... And if you don't recognize this house in your neighborhood, you live in this house in your neighborhood.

 

Christopher Titus

 

In books lies the soul of the whole Past Time; the articulate audible voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream.

 

Thomas Carlyle