I recommend to you, in my last, an innocent piece of art: that of flattering people behind their backs, in presence of those who, to make their own court, much more than for your sake, will not fail to repeat, and even amplify, the praise to the party concerned. This is of all flattery the most pleasing, and consequently the most effectual.

When I used to drive on the road from L. A., one time in Arizona we went off-road to see what weird little towns are around. Loved Bisbee.

I don't know. Both my parents are dead. So? Wait, I got pictures of their corpses in my wallet. I had them blown up as murals. Here.

I've never tried to drive my career in any particular direction. I've always been an in-the-moment, live-for-today guy. I've never had a goal, and nearly everything I've done has been an accident. I just play to me, and if I can amuse myself, I consider it a victory.

I drink every night. But I don't hang out and party. Not that I'm selling out Madison Square Garden, but in the old days after a show you could hang out with a few people. But now you're hanging around with 20 people, all of whom don't know each other, and they're all, "Leave my outgoing greeting on my voice mail, man, come on!"

All traditions are stupid unless you came up with it yourself.

You say you hate children and people always say the same thing; it would be different if it was your own child. Well what if it wasn't?