What’s old doesn’t need to be old-fashioned. It gets reborn.

A good writer wants from us — or has no right to ask more than — intelligence, good faith and time.

At GQ, there was never a temptation to pander or preach to the choir because I had no concept of who the reader was or what that reader might want.

One of the best things I’ve read about that inexplicably, but endlessly, fascinating group of people, the so-called Serious Collectors of 78s. Petrusich burrows into not just their personalities but the hunger that unites and drives their obsessions. She writes elegantly, and makes you think, and most important manages to hang onto her skepticism in the midst of her own collecting quest.

I'm just saying, take courage. That and pretty much that alone is never the incorrect thing to do.

We live in such constant nearness to the abyss of past time that the moment is endlessly sucked into.

The justification for rap rock seems to be that if you take really bad rock and put really bad rap over it, the result is somehow good, provided the raps are barked by an overweight white guy with cropped hair and forearm tattoos.