As we grow older I always think, why didn't I do more when I was young, why didn't I risk more?

A comedy ends with a wedding, and a tragedy ends with a funeral: you always have to juxtapose sex and death.

It's so quiet this high up, the feeling you get is that you're one of those space monkeys. You do the little job you're trained to do. Pull a lever. Push a button. You don't understand any of it, and then you just die.

You'll need to suffer to make any real art.

First your parents, they give you your life, but then they try to give you their life.

Maybe self-improvement isn't the answer, maybe self-destruction is the answer.

How this feels is I'm just another task in God's daily planner: The Renaissance pencilled in for right after the Dark Ages. The Information Age is scheduled immediately after the Industrial Revolution. Then the Post-Modern Era, then The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Famine. Check. Pestilence. Check. War. Check. Death. Check. And between the big events, the earthquakes and tidal waves, God's got me squeezed in for a cameo appearance. Then maybe in thirty years, or maybe next year, God's daily planner has me finished.