No problem is so big and difficult that it can't be blamed on somebody else.

You don't get a rebate at the end of your life for living with an idiot.

Blood doesn't make you family. Hell, an only child can bleed. It's the sharing of pain that makes you family. 'Cause, you can't really love a brother or sister until you know that they're as scarred and broken as you are. And, hey, if you grow up with a father like mine and you aren't at least a little scarred and broken, well then, that's not your father. You were spawned by an entirely different guy.

Here's the thing: If you're so far left you actually believe that somebody owes you a job, citizenship and a heart transplant, you're mentally ill. If you're so far right that you actually believe that somebody who doesn't have a job and is not a citizen deserves to have their heart cut out and sold on eBay, and you get to keep 80 percent of the profit - you're mentally ill.

The only thing that ever made me want to be a wife-beater is being called one. Your honor, can I have five minutes to make her not a liar, please?

Normal people, who grow up with compassion, never amount to anything. They're the ones who end up gluing those little dots on the highway. Or, putting glue on the dots for the guy who glues dots on the highway. Screwed up people, who weren't coddled or raised with compassion, we get stuff done. Sure, we feel a little alone and abandoned, but, we're... very... happy. Why can't you love me, daddy?

I can't stop some idiot from crashing into a building or blowing up a bus, I can only be your dad and give you a few pure truths. Number one, duct tape will save your life. Number two, Tupac is alive, but I need you to keep that on the DL because of Suge. And number three, don't be afraid of anything - except the television news because they're lying to you every night.