Stock your mind. It is your house of treasure and no one in the world can interfere with it.

I think I settled on the title before I ever wrote the book.

The English wouldn't give you the steam of their piss.

I had to get rid of any idea of hell or any idea of the afterlife. That's what held me, kept me down. So now I just have nothing but contempt for the institution of the church.

I don't absolve my father completely of his responsibility for what he did to us I feel compassion, maybe. He had his demons. But I still can't understand how a man can walk away from children. And leave them to starve, as we nearly did, if it wasn't for my mother going out and begging.

Your mind is a treasure house that you should stock well and it's the one part of you the world can't interfere with.

I don't know what it means and I don't care because it's Shakespeare and it's like having jewels in my mouth when I say the words.