Death can happen anywhere, but kids in Chicago, like 4 years old, can get shot. You don't really hear that in too many places.

During the course of 1989, more and more East Germans lost their fears of the state's repression and chicanery and went out on the streets. There was no turning back then. It is thanks to their courage the Wall was opened.

When you're a Chicago artist, to play Lollapalooza, that's not a normal thing. It's artists on a path to a certain place that do that. Chief Keef did it; Kids These Days did it; Cool Kids did it. And I'm the next Cool-Kids-Chief, if you will.

Strangely enough, the linking of computers has taken place democratically, even anarchically. Its rules and habits are emerging in the open light, rather shall behind the closed doors of security agencies or corporate operations centers.

Computers are hierarchical. We have a desktop and hierarchical files which have to mean everything.

I've been in Chicago for every Christmas of my life.

When I was a kid, we would get McDonalds on Christmas Eve, and that was a big deal because the closest one to the south side of Chicago was a 35 minute drive away. I remember opening the bag and smelling those fries, and even now when I smell them, it reminds me of Christmas Eve.

I'm still a Chicagoan in the fact that I can't do Christmas with sand and palm trees. It just doesn't compute - it's not Christmas unless your face hurts when you step outside.

Our whole family assembles in Chicago at Christmas and usually in Aspen in the summer.

My family background is Mexican, and I was born in Chicago. It's pretty much family tradition every time we get together for Christmas and major holidays to sing. Our family time is centered around the food and a little bit of performing for one another.

Coming from Chicago, I like a white Christmas.

You know, my first nine years I only played for two teams, Chicago and New York. And the only reason I got traded from New York was the 2010 free agency period, when they had a chance to sign LeBron and D-Wade and that whole class, and I understood that. But from there it's kind of been a roller coaster.

I loved the city of Chicago, and I love the Reinsdorfs. I'm forever grateful for them in taking a chance on me, allowing me to become the player that I am today. It's still incredible to me that I got to hoop in a Bulls jersey.

If 'Chicago Fire' goes for a long run, maybe I'll look for a place, but in my line of work, you can't throw your eggs into one basket because you might have to move. I'm not big on 'things,' though, so I don't own TVs, couches or cars because I wouldn't know where to put them.

It was Chicago with its World's Fair which vivified the national desire for civic beauty.

The attitude of physiological psychology to sensations and feelings, considered as psychical elements, is, naturally, the attitude of psychology at large.

What's amazing is everyone knows who Spider-Man is. We were filming in a Chicano community and standing side by side were a Cal Tech lab technician and a six-year-old boy, and both of them were in awe of the character. In fact, you might say he's an equal opportunity fantasy hero.

Organisations always want input with creativity and innovation but often have hierarchical control in place.

There are... otherwise quite decent people who are so dull of nature that they believe that they must attribute the swift flight of fancy to some illness of the psyche, and thus it happens that this or that writer is said to create not other than while imbibing intoxicating drink or that his fantasies are the result of overexcited nerves and resulting fever. But who can fail to know that, while a state of psychical excitement caused by the one or other stimulant may indeed generate some lucky and brilliant ideas, it can never produce a well-founded, substantial work of art that requires the utmost presence of mind.

I was the first Chicano to write in complete sentences.

"Were these boys in their right minds? Here were two boys with good intellect, one eighteen and one nineteen. They had all the prospects that life could hold out for any of the young; one a graduate of Chicago and another of Ann Arbor; one who had passed his examination for the Harvard Law School and was about to take a trip in Europe,--another who had passed at Ann Arbor, the youngest in his class, with three thousand dollars in the bank. Boys who never knew what it was to want a dollar; boys who could reach any position that was to boys of that kind to reach; boys of distinguished and honorable families, families of wealth and position, with all the world before them. And they gave it all up for nothing, for nothing! They took a little companion of one of them, on a crowded street, and killed him, for nothing, and sacrificed everything that could be of value in human life upon the crazy scheme of a couple of immature lads.

I don't think I could ever work in such a blatantly hierarchical corporate setting. I know that everyone in this world is not equal, but I can't bear environments that make this truth so obvious.

To us the only acceptable point of view appears to be one that recognizes both sides of reality - the quantitative and the qualitative, the physical and the psychical - as compatible with each other, and can embrace them simultaneously. It would be most satisfactory if physics and psyche (i.e., matter and mind) could be viewed as complementary aspects of the same reality.

The Chicago historian Studs Terkel asked Bob Dylan in the sixties about how he went about writing a song and trying to outdo himself, or at least being as good as the last song he wrote, and his response was pretty damn perfect. "I'm content with the same old piece of wood," he said. "I just want to find another place to pound a nail?.?.?. Music, my writing, is something special, not sacred." If the songs Bob Dylan wrote aren't sacred, then nobody's songs are sacred. Nobody's. No one has ever laid on their deathbed thinking, "Thank God I didn't make that song. Thank God I didn't make that piece of art. Thank God I avoided the embarrassment of putting a bad poem into the world." Nobody reaches the end of their life and regrets even a single moment of creating something, no matter how shitty or unappreciated that something might have been. I'm writing this just weeks after returning from Belleville, where I sat next to my dad's bed in my childhood house and watched him die. I can guarantee you that in the final moments of his life, he wasn't kicking himself for all those times when he dared to make a fool of himself by singing too loud.