Quotes About Radio

We are shallow because our media are so horribly shallow. Every morning, I peruse the papers, and there is so little to read in them. It is the same with radio - all that noise, that artifice.

The very first time I ever heard anything of mine on the radio, I was in New Jersey, and I was in my teens. I did my first record, which was an old standard called 'My Mother's Eyes.' It was the old Georgie Jessel theme. I heard it on local radio out of Newark. And it was very exciting!

I'd listen to whatever songs were on the radio, not because I liked them, but because they were my tarot cards. If the songs were good, it would be a good day. If they were bad, I'd probably get a B on a quiz.

The right really dominates radio, and it's amazing how much energy the right spends telling us that the press is slanted to the left when it really isn't. They want to shut other people up. They really don't understand the First Amendment.

The wonderful thing about having your songs on the radio is that people are going to go out to your concerts and buy your merchandise and that sort of thing, and it feels good to get that level of name recognition.

My fellow Americans, I am pleased to tell you I just signed legislation which outlaws Russia forever. The bombing will begin in five minutes. - During radio microphone test.

I remember driving home one evening while they were reviewing the papers on the radio. One of the articles was about me separating from my wife. It's a weird thing to listen to a news report about the break-up of your marriage.

would listen to the radio on Sundays as the announcer read the comics aloud, and he would follow along on his own until he had

Trying to get information out of someone you are sleep-depriving is sort of like trying to get a better signal out of a radio that you are smashing with a sledgehammer.

I like radio personalities, and I like to change lanes. And losing yourself on the freeway is like living at the beach--you're not aware of lapsed time, and suddenly you're there, where it was you were going.

When I read a magazine, I feel connected to the world, in on everything. When I read a book, I feel removed from the world, isolated, as if I've slipped off into a soundproof booth. It is the same with listening to the radio (connected) versus listening to a CD (removed). Both fill a certain need, balance the other out. There's the getting away, and then there's the coming back.

Why not a new village of farmers, citizens of the world through schools and radio and space-consuming transportation, grouped together in friendly sociability, building directly upon the soil?

Radio is the playground of coincidence.

These stories seem at times to be stories of a long-lost world when the city of New York was still filled with a river light, when you heard the Benny Goodman quartets from a radio in the corner stationery store, and when almost everybody wore a hat.

Based on the Robert A. Heinlein novel Space Cadet, the series followed the adventures of Solar Guards trainees 400 years hence (as in the TV show, the exact correlating date was used, so the radio series was set in 2352).

His radio show was brisk and never lacked color. Initially seen as a gossip show, it gradually broadened its scope until Winchell the grade school dropout was routinely commenting on affairs of state. In the early '30s he got on Hitler's case, terming the Nazis "thugs, racketeers, and hoodlums.

Rogers's closing signature, encompassing his Christian ideals and his belief in the Golden Rule, became a radio classic: "Goodbye, good luck, and may the good Lord take a likin' to ya.

But almost from the beginning, Vallee's special ability as a talent scout came to the fore. He plucked Alice Faye out of the chorus in George White's Scandals and sent her to vocal and film stardom. He found Frances Langford singing on a small station in Florida. Beatrice Lillie, Milton Berle, and Phil Baker got their first major radio exposure on the Vallee show.

Throughout his career, he was a champion of old songs: often he claimed that, in all his years on the air, he never introduced a new tune. He didn't croon, he said: he just sang 'em. His favorites were such as Dark-town Strutters' Ball and Every Cloud Must Have a Silver Lining. Frankel died June 13, 1948, but shows he had already transcribed were continued.

BBC Radio is not so much an art or industry as it is a way of life . . . a mirror that reflects . . . the eccentricities, the looniness that make Britons slightly different from other humans.

When you have a song on the radio your career and your life changes maybe for the better and maybe for the not so good depending on how it's going that day.

I hate going to bed. I read scripts, clean, listen to the radio - I've fallen asleep to 'This American Life' more times than I can count!

So much of a stand-up's life is doing live radio and having to be funny and quick on the spot with these strangers, and sort of surgical in terms of how funny I can be in three minutes.

A small and sinister snow seems to be coming down relentlessly at present. The radio says it is eventually going to be sleet and rain, but I don't think so; I think it is just going to go on and on, coming down, until the whole world...etc. It has that look.