When I'm drinking around people, I tend to get silly or pugnacious or wild, which can cause problems.

If I stop writing I am dead. And that's the only way I'll stop: dead.

We are here to laugh at the odds.

It's not the large things that send a man to the madhouse... no, it's the continuing series of small tragedies... not the death of his love but the shoelace that snaps with no time left.

Do you hate people? I don't hate them...I just feel better when they're not around.

we drove on and on, past little villages and both good things and bad things were happening to the people in those villages too, but I still was nothing but arms and ears and eyes and maybe there'd be either some good luck for me or more death tomorrow.

Do some living and get yourself a typewriter.