Sony Quotes

Don’t worry, Chris. The day that Sony PlayStation attacks the world and threatens to destroy it, we’ll give you a call. (Katra)

Despite different cultures, middle-class youth all over the world seem to live their lives as if in a parallel universe. They get up in the morning, put on their Levi's and Nikes, grab their caps and backpacks, and Sony personal CD players and head for school.

CHOW^TM contained spun, plaited, and woven protein molecules, capped and coded, carefully designed to be ignored by even the most ravenous digestive tract enzymes; no-cal sweeteners; mineral oils replacing vegetable oils; fibrous materials, colorings, and flavorings. The end result was a foodstuff almost indistinguishable from any other except for two things. Firstly, the price, which was slightly higher, and secondly, the nutritional content, which was roughly equivalent to that of a Sony Walkman.

All these people like my mother paying counselors and clinics to reattach them to reality; all of us people here paying Sony and Sega to reattach us to unreality.

Today, your cell phone has more computer power than all of NASA back in 1969, when it placed two astronauts on the moon. Video games, which consume enormous amounts of computer power to simulate 3-D situations, use more computer power than mainframe computers of the previous decade. The Sony PlayStation of today, which costs $300, has the power of a military supercomputer of 1997, which cost millions of dollars.

Goodnight, Sony,' he whispers. 'I hope you find your everything.' Her ashes spring free in the shape of wings.

Arrogance makes you stronger from outside, but even more weaker from inside.

Let's hope that for every time that we get hurt or break our heart, there is something somewhere being written to make up for it, to make the happiness due even bigger and laughters even merrier, for after all good things must happen to good people.

Nu e nimic aici în afara dorinţei noastre de a muri cât mai târziu posibil.

Worst People Are the best TEACHERS.

Moartea ne face egali, indiferent dacă am fost buni sau răi, bogaţi sau săraci, oameni simpli sau genii. Moartea-i un dictator comunist. Ceauşescu cu o coasă, aşteptându-te acasă.

The key to success for Sony, and to everything in business, science and technology for that matter, is never to follow the others.

The Ono-Sendai; next year’s most expensive Hosaka computer; a Sony monitor; a dozen disks of corporate-grade ice; a Braun coffeemaker.

Here’s Ohga: “At Sony, we assume that all products of our competitors have basically the same technology, price, performance, and features. Design is the only thing that differentiates one product from another in the marketplace.

The loneliness I feel when I am alone is better than the sadness I feel when I am with you.

I have learnt to stay quiet even in those times when I feel like screaming.

In the 1980s, a few genetic engineering companies began to ask, “What is the biological equivalent of a Sony Walkman?” These

The Matrix has its roots in primitive arcade games,' said the voice-over, 'in early graphics programs and military experimentation with cranial jacks.' On the Sony, a two-dimensional space war faded behind a forest of mathematically generated ferns, demonstrating the spatial possibilities of logarithmic spirals; cold blue military footage burned through, lab animals wired into test systems, helmets feeding into fire control circuits of tanks and war planes. 'Cyberspace. A consensual hallucination experienced daily by billions of legitimate operators, in every nation, by children being taught mathematical concepts... A graphic representation of data abstracted from the banks of every computer in the human system. Unthinkable complexity. Lines of light ranged in the nonspace of the mind, clusters and constellations of data. Like city lights, receding...

You will come After the storm You will lay your head On my knees You will come to seek All I am And I would breathe you like, Opening the window, I was breathing the rain.

For that one person in life, we all break our rules.

Sony-ils tous (...) criminels s'ils en avaient l'occasion, innocents seulement par impuisance, et prets a se servir du mal pour accomplir leur ambition? (...) La nature humaine est-elle si detestable, ou bien est-ce la royaute qui nous rend ainsi?

I see - Your bare skin Shining the sun of spring Your neck refreshed By an indolent breeze Your tangled hair Our lips shared I see - The ultimate landscape of your beauty.

the nutritional content, which was roughly equivalent to that of a Sony Walkman.

Well, Hae-Joo probed, what did I do to relax? I play Go against my sony, I said. "To relax?" he responded, incredulous. "Who wins, you or the sony?" The sony, I answered, or how would I ever improve? So winners, Hae-Joo proposed, are the real losers because they learn nothing? What, then, are losers? Winners? I said, If losers can xploit what their adversaries teach them, yes, losers can become winners in the long term.

Betraying someone once can be a mistake. Betraying someone twice is a choice.

It's very hurtful too see yourself getting replaced in the life of someone who promised to never replace you.

Sometimes all you need is a walk with your friend with their arm around your shoulder.

You can't live forever in the darkness of someone's selfish love.

When I needed the comfort of your presence. All that you gave me was this loneliness.

Some relations don't give you anything. They take away everything that you have got.

I always win because I only play for win

I was wondering why I wasn't getting the right answers. It was then I realized that I wasn't asking the right people.

If you bow only to the infinite that is within you. You will stand in front of the entire world.

To love you, is the flight of the birds who were asleep in my soul.

Love is a silence that needs lips to be said.

People don't betray you. They make you open your shut eyes.

I still love you but I don't want you back.

When will your sun come - to make everything reborn? -The burn of your fingers pressed against my being- I would like to fall asleep in your body again And make of your smiles an open source When my life is like a desolate desert I would like to fall asleep by the light sand of your skin. Your voice - your voice alone knows how to put an end to my anger As your lips faint on the pains of my yesterday When will you come to drape me in your radiant sun? So that I find life in its first taste (-The glow of your hair is a roof of moonlight.)

My memories unveil. Of Neo, my poet bruised by people meant to protect him, my poor little boy who should’ve spent his years growing under the sun rather than under exam lights. Of Sony. My flame so determined to burn, whose mother was taken too soon and whose childhood should’ve gone on forever. Of C. My heart-broken bear of a boy, so aloof yet so gentle, so willing to be kind.

Forgiving once is ok, but don't forgive someone who betrayed you twice. Don't create space for more betrayal. Don’t let love make you look like a fool. Love is sacred and strong, not so weak.

In your voice, I will hear all my pains And with your words, I will understand them I will tell you That everything is uncertain (And so possible) And I will give you my hand (Inaccessible)

And I would like To console you And make of you My solitude And drink you As my source And lay you On my distress And breathe Your memory In your shadow Smile and sleep -get old And then die.

In these days, when there is a tendency to specialize so closely, it is well for us to be reminded that the possibilities of being at once broad and deep did not pass with Leonardo da Vinci or even Benjamin Franklin.

The PS3 controller was criticized for its weird shape and it was nicknamed the Boomerang. SONY claimed the Boomerang was not the finished controller and they eventually unveiled a controller that was almost identical to the controller of the PSOne and PS2. SONY were criticized again for being unoriginal.

It starts between two suns Between dream and sleep Like a sigh after oblivion -The way you hold the night. It goes on in a kiss So many pains exchanged Like a song of compassion -The way you reveal my name. It ends In my body It ends In a shiver Where we remain only Two souls And, naturally, We recognize each other.

You know, Piggly Wiggly never could hang on to a night stock manager. Your math skills would be a plus, maybe even your Spanish, and you don't mind staying up late." "Piggly Wiggly, wow. I hadn't thought about that. I'll swing by, pick up an application tomorrow. But if it doesn't pan out maybe ... Never mind, it's a crazy idea." "No, tell me. I want to hear it." "Well, just as a backup plan, I did hear that Sony has an opening. They're, um, they're looking for a rock star. The hours suck, but it's no worse than night stock manager at Pigs. I bet it pays better too." Isabel stopped in her tracks, playfully slapping his arm. "Aidan, that's genius! That's what you should do! I've heard you sing, you can carry a decent tune." She looked him up and down. "With a little work, you can probably pull off the image." He tugged on her arms until she was in his. "Only if you're sure. Only if it's what we want." "Aidan, it's who you are. I've known it since the day we brought that first guitar here. I'd never want to take that away.

Always give response rather than reaction".

I can say,"I am too tiered but life will never allow anyone to be tired".

There is always a comma to check whether are we going to do the same mistake which we have done before?" But proble is that we never use this comma.

It takes courage to own up your actions that hurt others, to look Into the eye and to mean the sorry, To accept the mistake and not deny, all of this needs courage.

Relations are beautiful only when they are not one sided.

You don't question someone's loyalty when they make you feel secure by expressing their love for you.

Yes we are still friends but our friendship isn't same anymore.

A soul connection will never fade away due to distance.

Unconditional love is nothing but just an endless suffering.

The cheapest luxury in this world is the time you get to enjoy with your friends.

Sometimes we get punished even for being honest and telling the truth.

I don't know what's more painful for me. Leaving you or to continue loving you.

Crying is the only relief sometimes.

Worst betrayal always comes from the people we trust a lot.

My only regret is that you never fought to keep me in your life.

Don't try to look for logic in things that involve feelings and emotions.

Forgiving someone too many times is not bravery.

They won't stop hurting you until you tell them to stop hurting you.

You feel lost when you start losing touch with the people who are the only source of the smile in your life.

The best people in our life will make us realize our worth and won't make us feel unworthy.

People can use you only if you allow them to.

Not having someone doesn't hurt as much as being ignored by someone.

Happiness finds its way to those who have their doors open. Don't shut the door on its face and complain of never finding it.

you don't have to be happy to spread happiness.

I remember- The world was in your embrace I was only your little girl It was easy, it was simple I was sleeping in the shade Of your eyelashes.

You got betrayed because love turned you blind.

Working hard never goes waste. Especially when it comes to your relationships.

I love you, but that doesn't mean that I have to always agree with you.

Never force yourself to trust someone again, as you won't be able to trust your decisions in the future if that person betrays you again.

The habit of winning every argument will make you lose your relationships.

Stop knocking on the doors that are permanently closed for you.

You were not any different. You just broke me differently.

I'm a Cancer, you know," I tell her. "So it's hard for me to talk. And I have all these weird dreams, not the ones with the Sony Girls - ha-ha - but mostly where I mow the lawn. Sometimes I just wash the car, like Gupta! But there's this voice in my head, and Lt. Kim thinks that once we get it to go away, I'll stop worrying that the good things in life are destined to fail, like you and me. But I'm up in this satellite dish, and I'm thinking: what if this is the voice that still believes things can be okay, that believes in good and warns me from bad? It wants to protect me, just like the United Nations.

As a nine-year-old, I was sorry for everything. "Sonie, you left the refrigerator open!" "Sorry." "Sonya, why is your coat on the couch?" "Sorry." "Sonya, did you get grape jelly on the white pantsuit I paid good money for?" "Sorry, sorry, sorry..." A litany of apologies for my ever clumsy, messy, forgetful self, who spilled evidence of such all over the house. "Sorry" was my way of gathering up the spill.

Mistakes and miscalculations are human and normal, and viewed in the long run they have not damaged the company. I do not mind taking responsibilty for every managerial decision I have made. But if a person who makes a mistake is branded and kicked off the seniority promotion escalator, he could lose his motivation for the rest of his business life and depreive the company of whaever good things he may have to offer later. If the casues of the mistake are clarified and made public, the person who made the mistake will not forget it and others will not make the same mistake. I tell our people “Go ahead and do what you think is right. If you make a mistake, you will learn form it. Just don't make the same mistake twice.

I have sought so much Your being Behind everything I knew In the new Beginnings, And the fearful mornings, When anxiety and hope Live side by side And that My shadow Only aspires to lie With your shadow.

But the Clash as a performing band, either live on-stage, or back together in the studio: that can never happen again. It was hard enough to envisage a Clash without Mick Jones in 1983, but it is impossible to envisage one without Joe Strummer now or at any time in the future. Even if the other members of the band do get back together, and they (or Sony) choose to use the name, it won't be the Clash. Joe Strummer is dead, and irreplaceable. That's it, now. From here to eternity.

Two years of Newtrition investment and research had produced CHOW™. CHOW™ contained spun, plaited, and woven protein molecules, capped and coded, carefully designed to be ignored by even the most ravenous digestive tract enzymes; no-cal sweeteners; mineral oils replacing vegetable oils; fibrous materials, colorings, and flavorings. The end result was a foodstuff almost indistinguishable from any other except for two things. Firstly, the price, which was slightly higher, and secondly the nutritional content, which was roughly equivalent to that of a Sony Walkman. It didn’t matter how much you ate, you lost weight.* Fat people had bought it. Thin people who didn’t want to get fat had bought it. CHOW™ was the ultimate diet food—carefully spun, woven, textured, and pounded to imitate anything, from potatoes to venison, although the chicken sold best. Sable sat back and watched the money roll in. He watched CHOW™ gradually fill the ecological niche that used to be filled by the old, untrademarked food. He followed CHOW™ with SNACKS™—junk food made from real junk. MEALS™ was Sable’s latest brainwave. MEALS™ was CHOW™ with added sugar and fat. The theory was that if you ate enough MEALS™ you would a) get very fat, and b) die of malnutrition.

—Bueno —tanteó Hae-Joo—, ¿qué haces para relajarte? —Jugar al go con el sony —dije. —¿Para relajarte? —replicó incrédulo—. ¿Y quién gana, tú o el sony? —El sony —respondí—. ¿Cómo si no iba a mejorar? —O sea, que los ganadores —razonó Hae-Joo—, ¿son, en realidad, los perdedores, porque no aprenden nada nuevo? Entonces, ¿qué son los perdedores? ¿Ganadores? Yo no sabía si hablaba en serio. —Si los perdedores consiguen sacar partido de lo que les enseñan sus adversarios, entonces sí, los perdedores, a la larga, pueden ser los ganadores.

But Sony couldn’t. It had pioneered portable music with the Walkman, it had a great record company, and it had a long history of making beautiful consumer devices. It had all of the assets to compete with Jobs’s strategy of integration of hardware, software, devices, and content sales. Why did it fail? Partly because it was a company, like AOL Time Warner, that was organized into divisions (that word itself was ominous) with their own bottom lines; the goal of achieving synergy in such companies by prodding the divisions to work together was usually elusive. Jobs did not organize Apple into semiautonomous divisions; he closely controlled all of his teams and pushed them to work as one cohesive and flexible company, with one profit-and-loss bottom line. “We don’t have ‘divisions’ with their own P&L,” said Tim Cook. “We run one P&L for the company.

Worry, my son?...I am not worried now and I never have or will. You must learn to tell worry from thought, and thought from prayer. Sometimes a light will go from your life...and your life becomes a prayer, till you are strong enough to stand under the weight of your own thought again.

I write you from a miss A train station and a farewell I write from a seashell The wave, the trace of its kiss I write you from a space A bud, under the light of spring I write you from a ruin This red flower, in my chest I write you to say a silence (The world is just an appearance) I write you from the shadow From oblivion, you remember? I write you from a misty window Your name, of breath and letters I write you from my soul This fire, and this scream I write you to talk about me This emptiness, embraced between your arms -and for all that is missing Another one will be saying.

Her hair was totally Indian Woolworth perfume clerk. You know - sweet but dumb - she'll marry her way out of the trailer park some day soon. But the dress was early '60s Aeroflot stewardess - you know - that really sad blue the Russians used before they all started wanting to buy Sonys and having Guy Laroche design their Politburo caps. And such make-up! Perfect '70s Mary Quant, with these little PVC floral appliqué earrings that looked like antiskid bathtub stickers from a gay Hollywood tub circa 1956. She really caught the sadness - she was the hippest person there. Totally.' TRACEY, 27

I remember Your wonder Us two, lying on the sky You were explaining me the world Its weighs, And I said: "I will write for what is alive. " "I come from emptiness, not from nothingness. " And I kissed you without understanding Your sun came to surprise me And he loved me to hunt me down (And I wanted to ravage you).

Cheltuim timpul pe toate prostiile. Nu ȋl pierdem, ȋl cheltuim. Pe ştiri, pe seriale care după cinci ani se demodează şi realizezi că n-au ȋnsemnat nimic, pe filme americane de duzină cu happy-end, pe emisiuni proaste urmărite de proştii care fac rating, pe bloguri scrise de anonimi care nu au de fapt nimic de spus, transformaţi de alţi anonimi ȋn vedete, pe cumpărături pentru lucruri de care nu ai nevoie, pe mâncare si atâtea prostii! Doamne, cât timp pierdem! De parcă am trăi o mie de ani.

I will make love to your soul I will love you as forever I will make love to your fingers To fill the spaces between you and the world -Each of your sighs will invite another. I will make love to your eyes, -What you have of unsatisfied, You will live by the touch of my hands You will remember me who I am And if the world has an order -Each of your sighs will invite another.

I don’t think I was ever motivated by the notion of winning prizes, although I have a couple of dozen of them in the other room. I was more motivated by curiosity. Never by the desire for financial gain. I just wondered how things were put together. Or what laws or rules govern a situation, or if there are theorems about what one can’t or can do. Mainly because I wanted to know myself.

the fact is, our relationships to these corporations are not unambiguous. some memebers of negativland genuinely liked pepsi products. mca grew up loving star wars and didn't mind having his work sent all over the united states to all the "cool, underground magazines" they were marketing to--why would he? sam gould had a spiritual moment in the shower listening to a cd created, according to sophie wong, so that he would talk about tylenol with his independent artist friends--and he did. many of my friends' daughters will be getting american girl dolls and books as gifts well into the foreseeable future. some skateboarders in washington, dc, were asked to create an ad campaign for the east coast summer tour, and they all love minor threat--why not use its famous album cover? how about shilling for converse? i would have been happy to ten years ago. so what's really changed? the answer is that two important things have changed: who is ultimately accountable for veiled corporate campaigns that occasionally strive to obsfucate their sponsorship and who is requesting our participation in such campaigns. behind converse and nike sb is nike, a company that uses shit-poor labor policies and predatory marketing that effectively glosses over their shit-poor labor policies, even to an audience that used to know better. behind team ouch! was an underground-savvy brainreservist on the payroll of big pharma; behind the recent wave of street art in hip urban areas near you was omd worldwide on behalf of sony; behind your cool hand-stenciled vader shirt was lucasfilm; and behind a recent cool crafting event was toyota. no matter how you participated in these events, whether as a contributor, cultural producer, viewer, or even critic, these are the companies that profited from your attention.

So love me Like a rainbow (It's your rain due to my sun) Love me Between two seasons (It's like two bodies that collide) Love me with your lips and not with your mouth (Your fire is the only one that touches me) Love me With your fingers and not your hand (And open me like the morning Wakes up the flower from its sorrow) Love me When the day is discreet Drink my shyness like dew And devastate my burned earth When the day comes to decline Love me In this ephemeral What is to be, what is not yet All I have of solitary Only speaks about your arms Love me In this hollow Love me In this space Where we can still grow For you are all that I embrace. ( I hear of voice in all the noise of the world.)

She's selling CDs on the corner, fifty cents to any stoner, any homeboy with a boner. Sleet and worse - the weather's awful. Will she live? It's very doubtful. Life out here is never healthful. She puts a CD in her Sony. It's the about the pony and a pie with pepperoni and a mom with warm, clean hands who doesn't bring home guys from bands or make some sickening demands. The cold wind bites like icy snakes. She tries to move but merely shakes. Some thief leans down and simply takes. Her next CD's called Land Of Food. No one there can be tattooed or mumble things that might be crude and everything to eat is free, there's always a big Christmas tree and crystal bowls of potpourri. She's weak but still she play one more: She's on a beach with friends galore. They scamper down the sandy shore to watch the towering waves cascade and marvel at the cute mermaids who call to her and serenade. She can't resist. the water's fine. The rocks are like a kind of shrine. The foam goes down like scarlet wine. One cop stands up and says, "She's gone." The other shakes his head and yawns. It's barely 10:00, and life goes on.

I have always been fascinated by youth. This fire that makes us feel glorious, insolent, immortal. I will have to come to terms with it - everything has been reduced to ashes. (I tried in vain not to burn myself in the way.) I believe that the deep tenderness I feel for man comes from the fact that he is so full of certainty – yet, he doubts all the time. It is a funny paradox. He is constantly misled. He gives great importance to things that do not have any, and misses those which have. I would like to be like a flower. Going through life, just like this, regardless of whether I will be born again or if anyone will remember my beauty. Just passing by like this, to make the world a little more beautiful, or a little more breathable, for a little while. I would like to be a flower of those in the bouquets for the hospitals. Of those who are plucked to die near those who are going to die. Or those who are just born. So that we can watch life together for a moment, as long as it is there. To die because I am beautiful and I represent life. To die because the love of the flower never offers itself as a trophy, for the love of the flower is always humble. And I love to love with humility. We should always love with humility.

In one sense, the world seen through such eyes looks starkly unequal. “A very small percentage of the population produces the greatest proportion of the important ideas,” Shannon began, gesturing toward a rough graph of the distribution of intelligence. “There are some people if you shoot one idea into the brain, you will get a half an idea out. There are other people who are beyond this point at which they produce two ideas for each idea sent in. Those are the people beyond the knee of the curve.” He was not, he quickly added, claiming membership for himself in the mental aristocracy—he was talking about history’s limited supply of Newtons and Einsteins.

Every Pirate Wants to Be an Admiral IT’S NOT AS though this is the first time we’ve had to rethink what copyright is, what it should do, and whom it should serve. The activities that copyright regulates—copying, transmission, display, performance—are technological activities, so when technology changes, it’s usually the case that copyright has to change, too. And it’s rarely pretty. When piano rolls were invented, the composers, whose income came from sheet music, were aghast. They couldn’t believe that player-piano companies had the audacity to record and sell performances of their work. They tried—unsuccessfully—to have such recordings classified as copyright violations. Then (thanks in part to the institution of a compulsory license) the piano-roll pirates and their compatriots in the wax-cylinder business got legit, and became the record industry. Then the radio came along, and broadcasters had the audacity to argue that they should be able to play records over the air. The record industry was furious, and tried (unsuccessfully) to block radio broadcasts without explicit permission from recording artists. Their argument was “When we used technology to appropriate and further commercialize the works of composers, that was progress. When these upstart broadcasters do it to our records, that’s piracy.” A few decades later, with the dust settled around radio transmission, along came cable TV, which appropriated broadcasts sent over the air and retransmitted them over cables. The broadcasters argued (unsuccessfully) that this was a form of piracy, and that the law should put an immediate halt to it. Their argument? The familiar one: “When we did it, it was progress. When they do it to us, that’s piracy.” Then came the VCR, which instigated a landmark lawsuit by the cable operators and the studios, a legal battle that was waged for eight years, finishing up in the 1984 Supreme Court “Betamax” ruling. You can look up the briefs if you’d like, but fundamentally, they went like this: “When we took the broadcasts without permission, that was progress. Now that someone’s recording our cable signals without permission, that’s piracy.” Sony won, and fifteen years later it was one of the first companies to get in line to sue Internet companies that were making it easier to copy music and videos online. I have a name for the principle at work here: “Every pirate wants to be an admiral.

New Rule: Conservatives have to stop complaining about Hollywood values. It's Oscar time again, which means two things: (1) I've got to get waxed, and (2) talk-radio hosts and conservative columnists will trot out their annual complaints about Hollywood: We're too liberal; we're out of touch with the Heartland; our facial muscles have been deadened with chicken botulism; and we make them feel fat. To these people, I say: Shut up and eat your popcorn. And stop bitching about one of the few American products--movies---that people all over the world still want to buy. Last year, Hollywood set a new box-office record: $16 billion worldwide. Not bad for a bunch of socialists. You never see Hollywood begging Washington for a handout, like corn farmers, or the auto industry, or the entire state of Alaska. What makes it even more inappropriate for conservatives to slam Hollywood is that they more than anybody lose their shit over any D-lister who leans right to the point that they actually run them for office. Sony Bono? Fred Thompson? And let'snot forget that the modern conservative messiah is a guy who costarred with a chimp. That's right, Dick Cheney. I'm not trying to say that when celebrities are conservative they're almost always lame, but if Stephen Baldwin killed himself and Bo Derrick with a car bomb, the headline the next day would be "Two Die in Car Bombing." The truth is that the vast majority of Hollywood talent is liberal, because most stars adhere to an ideology that jibes with their core principles of taking drugs and getting laid. The liebral stars that the right is always demonizing--Sean Penn and Michael Moore, Barbra Streisand and Alec Baldwin and Tim Robbins, and all the other members of my biweekly cocaine orgy--they're just people with opinions. None of them hold elective office, and liberals aren't begging them to run. Because we live in the real world, where actors do acting, and politicians do...nothing. We progressives love our stars, but we know better than to elect them. We make the movies here, so we know a well-kept trade secret: The people on that screen are only pretending to be geniuses, astronauts, and cowboys. So please don't hat eon us. And please don't ruin the Oscars. Because honestly, we're just like you: We work hard all year long, and the Oscars are really just our prom night. The tuxedos are scratchy, the limousines are rented, and we go home with eighteen-year-old girls.