People are beautiful wrecks.

Spiritually, we're all on a path. I haven't declared of defined myself because as soon as you declare yourself you're identifying with a certain dogma.

You don’t choose a life, dad. You live one.

We're all imperfect. And wouldn't it be great if the message sent out by the mainstream media is that we're fine being exactly who we are? Wouldn't that be great for everyone?

Writing is a lonely job, unless you're a drinker, in which case you always have a friend within reach.

My father is the Hollywood equivalent of a clean, fillet-brazed frame. My brother is like one of those fat-tubed aluminum Cannondales. I'm more like one of those Taiwanese Masis.

My mother missed having dinner with Lyndon Johnson because she couldn't find the right hat to wear. While my father went off to the white house to break bread with the President, my mother, who's not a things and stuff person, stayed at the hotel and tried on 10 different hats and missed dinner.