Summer makes me drowsy. Autumn makes me sing. Winter's pretty lousy, but I hate Spring.

I can’t write five words but that I change seven.

Sorrow is tranquility remembered in emotion.

All I have to be thankful for in this world is that I was sitting down when my garter busted.

Creativity is a wild mind and a disciplined eye.

I like to think of my shining tombstone. It gives me, as you might say, something to live for.

Dear Mary: We all knew you had it in you.