The first thing I do in the morning is brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue.

Three highballs, and I think I'm St. Francis of Assisi.

Those who have mastered etiquette, who are entirely, impeccably right, would seem to arrive at a point of exquisite dullness.

Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.

You do what you can, and you do it because you should. But all you can do is all you can do.

Art is a form of catharsis emotional release, purging, cleansing, purifying.

All I say is, nobody has any business to go around looking like a horse and behaving as if it were all right. You don't catch horses going around looking like people, do you?