Quotes About Long Island

In Long Island, people care about how much money you have. Even I did when I was growing up. I never wanted kids to see my mom's house because I was embarrassed that they'd tell everyone, 'Oh, Madison's mom is poor!' And she was definitely far from poor.

Some of my best memories of growing up on Long Island include spending all day fishing for fluke on Great South Bay.

In a way, Jersey really supports rock, maybe more than New York City and Long Island. I know plenty of bands that tour and do much better at Starland or other clubs in New Jersey than others in the tri-state area.

Rick Rubin's undulating face hair is just as famous as his body of work. In homage to the yogis he read about as a boy on Long Island, Rubin hasn't shaved since he was 23. It's long been his registered trademark.

I'm born and raised Long Island. Billy Joel, Paul Simon, Ben Gibbard - melody-driven guys... They shaped me, molded my music.

Check Jersey and Westchester, too. On Long Island, just check the fancy private clinics. I want this woman found this morning, dead or alive. When you find her, Stone and Bacchetti get the interview, unless it's deathbed stuff. Nobody, but nobody says a word to the press except

Jay Gatsby of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic conception of himself. He was a son of God—a phrase which, if it means anything, means just that—and he must be about His Father's business, the service of a vast, vulgar, and meretricious beauty.

Long Island has a great boxing tradition.

Surprisingly, Manhattan casts a sort of undersized shadow onto Long Island. Where I grew up, everyone seemed totally disconnected from the city - ours could have been any suburb, anywhere - though when traffic was thin, it took us only half an hour to get into midtown.

There isn't an amount of money you could offer me to do reality TV. I would rather get my job back on the building site. Or I could own a construction business. Maybe I could retire to my house in Long Island and take up painting, like Captain Beefheart. A crazy recluse: I like that idea.

I am who I am: an Irish Catholic kid, working class from Long Island. And I made it big.

I grew up on Long Island. It was pretty normal.

My story is so boring: Long Island Jewish parents take their daughters to Broadway.

My first job was as a day laborer on the construction of the Long Island Expressway more than 50 years ago.

I did a terrible job of composing myself. I was a spoiled brat from Long Island who benefitted from the energy of New York.

I was born in the shadow of World War II, on December 18, 1939, on the South Shore of Long Island, a product of the early -wentieth-century emigration of Eastern European Jewry to New York City and its environs.

We have a culture in Freeport, especially in our football department. We feel that we're the best team on Long Island, in New York, hands down.

I went to public school on Long Island, and it seemed every year we were being taught that you had a right to a fair trial and a right to confront your accuser.

No, not handsome, just vaguely Long Islandish.

One Saturday, he had gone to take the subway to Pennsylvania Station en route for the Soviet week-end rest camp at Glen Cove, the former Morgan estate on Long Island.

I'm certainly a real homebody. But the truth is that I understand that desire to, in a way, go join the circus. That's what got me out of Long Island and into show business. I was like, 'I'm just going to have an adventure. I want to be a person that isn't surrounded by their mail and their cat.'

My first Weight Watchers meeting was when I was 14 years old on Long Island, and I went there with my mother. I'd gained that adolescent weight and wanted to try out for cheerleading... I lost the weight, tried out, and made the cheerleading team.

Where I lived, on Long Island, you had the radio stations that always played Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath and AC/DC and all that. I grew up on all that stuff.

My first novel, 'Compromising Positions,' was a whodunit. The protagonist was a Long Island Jewish housewife who turns private investigator. But she was Jewish the way I was: lighting Sabbath candles but envying her Protestant and Catholic friends' December decorating options.