I contemplated suicide. My main concern was that I would not make the New York Times obituary page.

People who live in glass houses have to wash their windows all the time.

Put yourself in Hamlet's shoes. Suppose you were a prince, and you came back from college to discover that your uncle had murdered your father and married your mother, and you fell in love with a beautiful girl and mistakenly murdered her father, and then she went crazy and drowned herself. What would you do? Go back for a masters?

I'm working when I'm fighting with my wife. I constantly ask myself-how can I use this stuff to literary advantage.

I don't know whether this is the best of times or the worst of times, but I assure you it's the only time you've got. You can either sit on your expletive deleted or pick a daisy.

No one ever mentioned it, but thousands of men welcomed World War II as a way to escape their humdrum lives rather than a chance to fight for God and country.

I always wanted to get into politics, but I was never light enough to make the team.