A little is fine, but the minute you start believing that you've picked the only right one out of the 4,200 or so on offer, you need to get a grip on yourself. Once you start thinking that it's okay to hate someone that chose one of the 4,199 others... snap out of it.

Spending the day with you has been marginally better than watching mother die of cancer.

People who are intolerant, categorize and over-react... should all be dragged against a wall and shot.

It’s always hard. If it was easy, everyone would do it rather than going around telling you their ideas and saying how they could be a writer if they had the time.

I adore [my son]. I wouldn't trade him in for a Pulitzer - unless someone actually offered that as an option.

Every battle, every war - is fought for things worth dying for.

Just because you're living in blissful oblivion doesn't mean you're not responsible.