I saw doves and I thought they were rocks, but they were asleep. My breath made them stir, and they rocks took flight, the earth exploding... and my only thought was that I wanted you to see them, too.

If your life had lyrics, would they be any good?

Here's my theory about meetings and life: the three things you can't fake are erections, competence and creativity.

Happy. And then I got afraid that it would vanish as quickly as it came. That it was accidental-- that I didn't deserve it. It's like this very, very nice car crash that never ends.

I think we're simply going to run out of Nature before we have a chance to destroy it.

I know it's not cat food, but what exactly is it that they put inside of tinned ravioli?

Beyond a certain age, sincerity ceases to feel pornographic.