Having a musical outlet is a pure blessing to the ears of thousands of fans.

‘F.U.B.U.’ is one of my favorite songs ever. It just like touches me – I almost like cry when I heard that song.

Solange is just dope. I’m a huge fan.

Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.

Let me hear the music. I’ma let the music instruct me on which way to go. Forwards, backwards, left, right. It’s like boxing. I’m only as strong as my opponent.

People want to listen to a message, word from Jah. This could be passed through me or anybody. I am not a leader. Messenger. The words of the songs, not the person, is what attracts people.

One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.

Sorry you had a bad day yesterday. Anything I can do to make your afternoon worthwhile? How about a karaoke text? And I will always love youuuuu! Good morning.

The average Englishman has no idea of the dynamism in the music scene here.

I was fairly poor
but most of my money went
for wine and
classical music.
I loved to mix the two
together.

I like the way Mahler wandered about in his music and still retained his passion. He must have looked like an earthquake walking down the street.

Then I met David Janko on the station. He was a young white in his early twenties. I made the mistake of talking to him, something about classical music because it was the only thing I could listen to while drinking beer in bed in the early morning. If you listen morning after morning you are bound to remember things. And when Joyce had divorced me I had mistakenly packed 2 volumes of The Lives of the Classical and Modern Composers into one of my suitcases. Most of these men’s lives were so tortured that I enjoyed reading about them, thinking, well, I am in hell too and I can’t even write music.

I like you. Like, I really like you. Like, I’m over heels, you’re on my mind way too much, I’m singing stupid love songs really

What needs to be discharged is the intolerable tenderness of the past, the past gone and grieved over and never made sense of. Music ransoms us from the past, declares an amnesty, brackets and sets aside the old puzzles. Sing a new song. Start a new life, get a girl, look into her shadowy eyes, smile.

What I am looking for… is an immobile movement, something which would be the equivalent of what is called the eloquence of silence, or what St. John of the Cross, I think it was, described with the term ‘mute music’.

Even in the most beautiful music there are some silences, which are there so we can witness the importance of silence.

Music and silence combine strongly because music is done with silence, and silence is full of music.

There’s music in everything, even defeat.

I feel like my life’s become Requiem For a Dream. And I have front row seat tickets to the ass to ass scene. Toby’s the dildo, and I’m both assholes…

Fuck genres, I like music.

Listening to Mac DeMarco, hanging out the roof window, switch to third gear, turbo.

Next line will have ‘em like, ‘Whoa.’ I’ve been kissing white boys since 2004.

Long story short, my biggest songs to date are all singing songs. And the people who were saying that I was bad were just projecting their inner fears of trying something that they wanted to try, but not being able to. And now I’m better at singing and they’re probably not better at whatever they wanted to do.

I like my girls skinny with brains. I like my hoodies f**ked with Lame. I like my friends imaginary with no names. And I make music for the f**k of it, no fame.

Music is my first, but I contemplate divorce
You make a nigga sing songs nice
You make a nigga’s night turn day
And you make the flowers sing say turn green yellow.

So, I make music for those type of people that have been tore down by life because they had a good heart. Every time they tear you down, I’m going to build you back up.

The things that are not easy for me to talk about and express, I express through my music. I’m just very serious about my art.

Any artist that’s as serious about making music as I am, I’m cool with that. But if you tellin’ me, “Man, send me a verse and I’ma send you a verse.” No. That’s not collaborating. We don’t know each other and I’m serous about this music.

I don’t just listen to rap.

In 7th grade, I believe, I wrote my first rap song. It was about everything I was seeing, everything that was going on around me.

What I see, what I went through, what a friend of mine may have gone through, whatever – I rap about it.

I’m super serious about music. That’s, like, the only thing I’m serious about.

I know my music is going well when I don’t have insomnia.

Inspiration comes from many things, and in the life of KG his music is just one of them.

It’s about really really being who you are as an individual and not apologizing for it, that’s what it is. I can feel the growth from my first mixtape to now. On every song, I want to give you a piece of who I am as an individual.

The things that are most difficult for me to put into words and speak about, I put into my music. I’m just super passionate about my craft and super passionate about what I do.

I don’t like being put in a box. I just make music, you know?

I’m not hip-hop. I’m Tyler.

The only frustrating thing about jail is that I can’t make music.

My music is incredible. I don’t know what to call it because I’ve yet to see an artist display the different talents I display or create the different genres that I have created; from the rock and roll to heavy metal to soft rock to rap to country. I display so many styles. That’s why they love me.

I love to make music, I love to get tattoos… That’s just what I love. If I wasn’t getting paid I’d still do it.

A hot producer might not make a hot beat for me. I just love music.

I could care less about the particulars. I like to make music.

I always had music growing up, but music was also like a journal. It was like my personal diary or personal journal. A lot of the things I couldn’t express to an individual, I would express them in my music.

I don’t pay attention to sales because it’s not about that for me. It’s about the music. Music is all I have.

I’ve had mixtapes that have been better than albums I’ve heard from other artists. I take my time; I put my heart into it.

My truck is so old it still has cassette tapes.

Anyone singing about trucks, in any form, in any song, anywhere, literally just stop – nobody cares!

I write a lot of my best music in the car, like late night. Three, four in the morning. I’m in the passenger seat, I got my driver, my getaway driver. My Bonnie, I’m Clyde. That’s when everything is just settled. In the daytime it’s chaotic. Everybody just goin’ nowhere fast. In a rush to go nowhere.

I don’t have a therapist, so I use me as my own therapist when I’m making the music.

Our relationship was like my music, chopped up, screwed up.

No, I’m not no fucking hipster, mister
No, I’m not no fucking Kid Cudi, all my fucking fans love me.

I love talking about music. I’ll show you a song and break it down for 50 minutes. I’m a geek about it.

Since day one, I’ve always wanted to make the prettiest s*it that’s borderline boring or the hardest f**king sh*t…I’ve been trying to together since my first album.

I can make music that makes sense, but not meant to be stable.

Listen deeper than the music before you put it in a box.

The thing is, I make music I like. So it’s just weird if someone says they don’t like it.

I like my raps but I’m never too happy with some of ’em because I feel like they could be better. But every time I hear my flow on that song I wow myself.

I want to take Justin Bieber for a month and just lock him up in a cage where we sit and make music. He’s one of the most successful people in the world, but his music could be so much tighter.

And in her ears the little Seashells, the thimble radios tamped tight, and an electronic ocean of sound, of music and talk and music and talk coming in, coming in on the shore of her unsleeping mind. The room was indeed empty. Every night the waves came in and bore her off on their great tides of sound, floating her, wide-eyed, toward morning. There had been no night in the last two years that Mildred had not swum that sea, had not gladly gone down in it for the third time.

And at 3am you sit near the window and wonder if there is magic… because all you need are some fairies to take your pain away and help you sleep… you take a book to read… you take a pen and a paper to write…you cling on some music that might just make you fall asleep… yet nothing helps… another sleepless night and all you want is the dawn to break soon….

It was the middle of the night, and Bingo couldn’t sleep. The ground was hard, but he was used to that. . . .His blanket was dirty and smelled disgusting, but he was used to that too. A tune kept going through his head, and he couldn’t get it out of his mind. It was the Wendels’ victory song.

Del: Yay! Neal has a song… go ahead Neal…
Neal: Three coins in the fountain… one diff-
Del: Flinstones… meet the Flintstones… they’re the modern stone age family.

The barbershop is the ultimate cool-kid destination, where sports, music, and men’s grooming converge under one roof.

God’s signature is not just in the cell, it’s in all of creation. God is as necessary to the universe as a band is to music. Once the band stops playing, the music is over.

In essence, String Theory describes space and time, matter and energy, gravity and light, indeed all of God’s creation as music.

I can see God in a daisy. I can see God at night in the wind and rain. I see Creation just about everywhere. The highest form of song is prayer. King David’s, Solomon’s, the wailing of a coyote, the rumble of the Earth.

Closure is a false harmony, a siren song masquerading as a swan song.

I like BIG Jeeps & I cannot lie.