Quotes About Culture

Don't you see the rest of the country looks upon New York like we're left-wing, communist, Jewish, homosexual pornographers? I think of us that way sometimes and I live here.

It's about Russia.

Marshall McLuhan predicted books would become art objects at some point. He was right.

No work of art can compare to a city.

You see the whole culture (watching television) . . . Nazis, deodorant salesman, wrestlers . . . beauty contests, the talk show . . . Can you imagine the level of a mind that watches wrestling? Hmm? But the worst are the fundamentalist preachers . . . third-rate con men, telling the poor suckers that watch them that they speak for Jesus . . . and to please send in money. Money, money, money! If Jesus came back, and saw what's going on in his name, he'd never stop throwing up.

For some reason I'm more appreciated in France than I am back home. The subtitles must be incredibly good.

In those days, the Stage Delicatessen on Seventh Avenue was a late-night ritual.

There were record albums: classical, jazz, popular, the Caedmon Poets.

We had some fine chats about Jesus, Homer, and the Rig Veda from a strictly automotive point of view.

Wurm has learned to live with his wife's peccadillos, but only because he does not know what peccadillos are as she has convinced him they're Mexican food.

I was living in a culture and not a civilization and I could learn how that culture worked only by living with it.

Decían demasiadas cortesías ridículas. Pase usted, a sus órdenes, en casa de usted, con su permiso, es propio, puta madre: todos los que según la clase media son los modales de la clase alta.

Cuando alguien me decía: Thank you, yo contestaba: Of nothing. Por eso cuando Eric me dijo en voz bajita: You look pretty american, juré que era un piropo doble. O sea que me veía bonita y gringuita. Qué pendeja.

En castellano se está enamorado, pero en inglés se cae en el amor, y luego se está en él como en el centro de un capullo.

Often it sickened me to hear people speak their native tongues fluently. It was as if they were unable to think and feel anything but what their language so readily served up to them.

Some humans claim to be made in God's image - what an insult to God. There are, however, in the northern reaches of our Earth, small tribes who can still remember that God looked like a bear.

People are always saying the humanities are dead so it's strange how many conferences there are. (p. 203-204)

A zoo is a cultural institution. Like a public library, like a museum, it is at the service of popular education and science. And by that token, not much of a money-making venture for the Greater Good and the Greater Profit are not compatible aims.

In his entirely personal experience of them, English was jazz music, German was classical music, French was ecclesiastical music, and Spanish was from the streets. Which is to stay, stab his heart and it would bleed French, slice his brain open and its convolutions would be lined with English and German, and touch his hands and they would feel Spanish.

If we, citizens, do not support our artists, then we sacrifice our imagination o the altar of crude reality and we end up believing in nothing and having worthless dreams.

Instead of coconut yam kootu, why not boiled beef tongue with a mustard sauce?" "That sounds non-veg.

Hindus, in their capacity for love, are indeed hairless Christians, just as Muslims, in the way they see God in everything, are bearded Hindus, and Christians, in their devotion to God, are hat-wearing Muslims.

She looked beautiful. And sad. For she was leaving India, India of the heat and monsoons, of rice fields and the Cauvery River, of coastlines and stone temples, of bullock carts and colourful trucks, of friends and known shopkeepers, of Nehru Street and Goubert Salai, of this and that, India so familiar to her and loved by her.

the only Raj they managed to get was a