...music, music, records, records, noise to cover silence.

Record sales don't matter when the people who bought the records are dead and gone.

I'd sooner have died than admit that the most valuable thing I owned was a fairly extensive collection of German industrial music dance mix EP records stored for even further embarrassment under a box of crumbling Christmas tree ornaments in a Portland, Oregon basement. So I told him I owned nothing of any value.

First he threw out all of his records, trashed his heart and then he went to sleep.

It's not the music that counts - it's the silence in between.

Music is pleasing not only because of the sound but because of the silence that is in it: without the alternation of sound and silence there would be no rhythm.