A Quote by Billy West

Space Jam was weird because everybody has their own perception of what Bugs Bunny should sound like. Everybody. Somebody would just stick their head in the door and say, "He sounds too Jewish." Or, "He's too tough, he's off-putting. You gotta seduce kids, not scare them out the door."
I always thought that feminine, softer side was just too vulnerable to put out there, because then it's like you're opening up a door for everybody to come in, and you don't know who's going to come in that door.
We listen too much to the telephone and we listen too little to nature. The wind is one of my sounds. A lonely sound, perhaps, but soothing. Everybody should have his personal sounds to listen for-sounds that will make him exhilarated and alive, or quiet and calm... As a matter of fact, one of the greatest sounds of them all-and to me it is a sound-is utter, complete silence.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we're about to begin boarding. If we could ask for your cooperation, please stay seated until you row has been called." ... That's what they say - but somehow, by the time it comes out of the speaker, it sounds like, "Everybody up and rush the door! Everybody up and try to squeeze your big fat butts in the small gate door area! Immediately! ... Do whatever you have to do to get on board. This is the last helicopter out of Vietnam!"
When an underdog wins, they win for everybody, because somebody gotta come through that door and break it open and make it possible.
Everybody gets through a phase where it's, 'Ah, if I could just sound just like Vince Gill.' Then you figure out that you have your own voice, whether you like it or not, and that's what you should stick with.
I think everybody should just turn off their TV machines and make up their own songs about whatever comes to mind-their couch, their friends their loaves of bread. Everybody's got their own songs. There should be so many songs out there that it all turns into one big sound and we can put the whole thing into a pickup truck and let it roll off the edge of the Grand Canyon.
Maybe your life resembles a Bethlehem stable. Crude in some spots, smelly in others. Not much glamour. Not always neat. People in your circle remind you of stable animals: grazing like sheep, stubborn like donkeys, and that cow in the corner looks a lot like the fellow next door. You, like Joseph, knocked on the innkeeper's door. But you were too late. Or too old, sick, dull, damaged, poor, or peculiar. You know the sound of a slamming door.
I ate too much and masturbated too recently, you know? It's bad to like jerk off and run out the door, 'cause you run into somebody. "Oh, she knows..." You got to take some time alone to process the shame.
Everybody has their own opinions and you cannot please everybody. I'm never going to try to do that - to please everybody - because there is always somebody who will say they don't like it.
Everybody always says that I'm the girl next door, which makes me think that y'all must have a lot of weird next-door neighbours.
Just think about it yourself; you don't want to put the [cat's] litter box down the basement because that's too far, on the other hand you don't want to put where everybody is traipsing in and out the back the door.
I think, on any given day, somebody could help out a homeless person and cuss out somebody that cut them off in traffic, and I think that everybody has that inside them: it's just how you live that balance - so I think everybody is 'Wretched and Divine.'
There's two or three kids out there trying to make good music, and the rest of them sound like it's been strained through some kind of white toast or something. It all sounds just too neat and perfect, with no surprise to it at all. No story, no nothing. It's like building cars, like an assembly line. It doesn't sound like anything that came from a guitar.
I am drawn to those parts; I like the tough girls because they are not tough. It's a veil; it's a disguise. It's defenses. At the core, everybody is human, everybody is fragile, everybody is terrified, and the fear is what propels you to be tough.
My next door neighbor just had a pacemaker installed. They're still working the bugs out, though. Every time he makes love, my garage door opens.
He grabbed for the coatrack that stood by the door, ripped the coats off it, and flung the door wide, the rack held above his head like a javelin. On the other side of the door was Jace. He blinked. "Is that a coatrack?
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