It was well after college that I learned about depression. I got my first job for Jack Paar. I realized I was sleeping 14 hours a day and just living for the Paar show.

I'm not all that enthralled by show business, and I'm not that much of a highbrow.

Why anyone, by dying, should thereby be declared beyond criticism, innocent of wrongdoing, suddenly filled with virtue and above reproach escapes me.

In relative youth, we assume we'll remember everything. Someone should urge the young to think otherwise.

Every comic can report a few 'gift from the gods' moments.

I have a disturbing problem with losing things. My vulnerability to loss-distress could properly be labeled not only inordinate, but neurotic.

The greatest benefit of depression is the fact that when I have talked about it, every so often someone comes up and says, you saved my dad's life.