Julia Kent Quotes

I find that I'm always struggling with the noise of the city. When I get a good take, there will be a horn or a siren or something. So it makes me very conscious of outside sounds, which in a way maybe led me to incorporate the field recordings.

I saw Grizzly Man; I know what can happen.

sides yellowed by too many unfiltered Camels. The whole place had the feel of a neighborhood hangout for people too stupid to realize they were drinking away an enormous percentage of their

I have totally like an urbanite relationship to nature. I mean I'm not someone who hikes.

Reading about other peoples' foibles and mistakes was so much easier than living through her own.

I'm always anxious in introducing sounds that don't originate with the cello.

The boxes stood there, judging her. Who came up with the names for these things? Early Pregnancy Test was fine, but First Response? What was she, a 911 call? Little cardboard soldiers of doom, ready to deliver a message from the front lines that she had lost, and it was time to surrender to the truth. Never surrender! And now she was quoting cheesy 80s songs in her mind. This was how far she had fallen.

I can really only can record at home.

I don't really understand the natural world, I admire it and am a little bit afraid of its power.

Mom, there's a missionary at my door. I need to go talk to him, I lie.

Mormon?she asks. I have no idea why.

Does it matter? Gotta go.

Yep. They're real. You really can sign on as a mystery

People who think animals have expressionless faces are like people who can ignore an open package of Oreos. Not quite human.

Andrew's kissing Amanda again, her back pinned against the door frame, his hands working through a geometry problem where the goal is to find the point of intersection where two legs bisect. People would like math so much more if it involved real life like that.

Doing something you hate because you think you'll gain acceptance from other people is what I call "questionable morals.

Someone this amazing was about to get inundated by messages from needy weirdos. And he needed to be the first.

It's a Monday morning, 9:13 a.m. on the dot, and the counter person, Mark J., takes exactly seventeen seconds to acknowledge my presence. He then offers to

If you've never been in a men's room, and have only set foot in the ladies' room at most fine (and not so fine) establishments, you need to know this: store owners hate men. No, really - this is the one area where women get treated better. We may earn seventy-seven cents on the dollar compared to men, but, by God, our public bathrooms don't look like something out of a Soviet-era prison. Or worse - a Sochi hotel during the Olympics.

It's just a spare room in my apartment. It's very cluttered and not particularly aesthetically inspiring, and it's very un-noise-proof.

Her mouth - ah, that lush, sweet mouth - was a garden, and I was on my back, face tipped in adoration to the sun for giving me such brilliance, delightful aromas, and the indescribable lightness of being with her.

I love traveling and I love seeing new places and meeting new people, but at the same time, it takes a certain amount of emotional strength to gel with that, at least for me.

Sometimes when I'm traveling, I feel a little bit dislocated, especially the transitions you make when you're traveling - you go to a different city every day.

If I had echolocation I could map out the terrain of ab muscles through sheer force of will. His cut body is meant to be relief mapped the way Braille is meant to be read. With my fingertips.

Last time I was recording, I was trying to loop on the computer, but it's really difficult because it's really different from looping on hardware.

I'm really terrible at sort of figuring out the thing that's going to make the money, I guess.

Our two taco specials get shoved up on the serving counter, crispy, cheesy goodness in brown plastic baskets lined with parchment paper, sour cream and guacamole exactly where they should be.

On the side.

There is a perfect ratio of sour cream, guac, and salsa on a shredded chicken tostada. No one can make it happen for you. Many restaurants have tried. All have failed. Only the mouth knows its own pleasure, and calibration like Taco Heaven cannot be mass produced.

It simply cannot.

Taco Heaven is a sensory explosion of flavor that defies logic. First, you have to eye the amount of spiced meat, shredded lettuce, chopped tomatoes, and tomatillos. You must consider the size and crispiness of the shells. Some people–I call them blasphemers–like soft tacos. I am sitting across from Exhibit A.

We won't talk about soft tacos. They don't make it to Taco Heaven. People who eat soft tacos live in Taco Purgatory, never fully understanding their moral failings, repeating the same mistakes again and again for all eternity.

Like Perky and dating.

Once you inventory your meat, lettuce, tomato, and shell quality, the real construction begins. Making your way to Taco Heaven is like a mechanical engineer building a bridge in your mouth. Measurements must be exact. Payloads are all about formulas and precision. One miscalculation and it all fails.

Taco Death is worse than Taco Purgatory, because the only re

dazzled by the sheer essence of the whole,

What else do you do with a life you didn't choose and can't get out of? You adapt and take whatever crumbs you can find so you don't let your soul or body starve.

I don't need everything to be right." The air crackled with energy, sparks flying between us. "I need you to be real.

Security has a report of an unattended fainting goat that is loose in the building as well, sir' 'A, What?' I Snap. 'A fainting goat' 'How do you know it faints?' 'Guests continue to report a dead goat. Surveillance footage shows that it's just fainting' 'What a relief' Dec says. 'Because a fainting goat is so much better than a dead one' he turns to me 'When did your suite become a petting zoo?' 'Shut up

Josh is the company tech expert, which means we all think he's a little bit shaman, a little bit magician, and mostly a nerd.

I can feel the essence of Will, the space inside myself I created fourteen years ago, a habitat deep in my core where he lives. Sounds creepy, right? Like I'm lowering a bucket full of lotion to him. But hey, it's my imagination. My brain.

My heart.

And having grown-up Will make grown-up Mallory a job offer is the closest thing to teen Mallory being asked to the prom by teen Will.

It will have to do.

Yet–I know I can't say yes.

My career isn't the issue. Even my bank account, as starved and frail as it is, isn't the issue. The issue is remarkably simple: I can't take my personality and turn it back ten to fourteen years. Working for Will Lotham would do that to me.

Just because an institution gives you authority doesn't mean you gain any respect - not one ounce - from the people you're supposed to manage.

If you're too judgmental, you shut your self off to so much richness in the world.

People can be threatened by someone with ambition, no matter how low the stakes or how small the rewards. And while lots of people will plant a smile on their face and say they're pleased, behind closed doors the whispers form a kind of toxic cloud of gas that goes out on the wind and finds you eventually.

I'm very, very questioned and cinnamoned out.

I've been making the recordings for a long time, and I have tons and tons of them. I'm like a digital hoarder or something - everything is on like hard drives and whatever.

Did I mention this is my ninth store of the day? I started at 5:30 a.m. I'm very, very questioned and cinnamoned

Anger seeped in, like an old friend who was a lousy house guest, but you forget every time he leaves how much you wish him gone, and welcome him heartily when he reappears. Anger was so much easier than hurt, or heartache, or regret, so anger it was. Welcome my old friend.

Mike suppressed an urge to shove Dylan. Unfortunately, Dylan had the impulse control of Bill Clinton in a room full of interns and couldn't hold back his nudge.

What he'd learned over the past year, though, was that being complete wasn't something that you acquired by loving the right person. It was something you had to put together within yourself so that when you did meet the right person you could detect their completeness. And that was when you knew you were home.

sort. That gave me one hour and eighteen minutes to

You snitch!" It's 6:45p.m. and I am being held hostage by terrorist extremists with a list of demands that make Al-Qaeda look like preschoolers playing pirate.

I feel as though I can get an end result that works for me, but as far as recording techniques, I don't feel that confident in my abilities.