I was telling some people in my dressing room some of my other stories, my psychotic break, and blah, blah, blah, and no, they kind of look at you and it's just not what they wanted to hear.

Sometimes you can only find Heaven by slowly backing away from Hell.

You know how I always seem to be struggling, even when the situation doesn't call for it?

Mistakes are a drag, because you get in the area of regret and self-pity.

And when you're young you want to fit in. Hell, I still want to fit in with certain humans, but as you get older you get a little more discriminating.

Running for office is the least aerobic of the socially interactive sports.

I think of my body as a side effect of my mind.