There is no present or future-only the past, happening over and over again-now.

Dey's some things I don't got to be told. I kin read them in folks' eyes.

God gave us mouths that close and ears that don't... that should tell us something.

Life is for each man a solitary cell whose walls are mirrors.

What's the use coming home to get the blues over what can't be helped.

None of us can help the things life has done to us. They’re done before you realize it, and once they’re done they make you do other things until at last everything comes between you and what you’d like to be, and you’ve lost your true self forever.

Why can’t you remember your Shakespeare and forget the third-raters. You’ll find what you’re trying to say in him- as you’ll find everything else worth saying. 'We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with sleep.'' - 'Fine! That’s beautiful. But I wasn’t trying to say that. We are such stuff as manure is made on, so let’s drink up and forget it. That’s more my idea.