You wouldn't know it, from some of the things I've said over the years, but I like people. I do. I like people, but I like them in short bursts. I don't like people for extended periods of time. I'm all right with them for a little while, but once you get up past around... a minute, minute and a half, I gotta get the fuck out of there.

One time. In 1965. August, for about an hour, I was both fine AND dandy at the same time. But nobody asked me how I was.

There's a part of me that is angry. Not in the sense of, "Gee, George is an angry guy!" I mean, anyone who's been with me five minutes, five years, whatever, they would tell you they've rarely seen me in a moment of anger. Yes, I can become highly irritated in a line that's moving slowly, or with a clerk who's incompetent. But I don't yell. I don't get rude. I am clear about what I expect. In a store, my mother always told me, "Ask for the manager immediately. It changes the tone of the conversation."

Every time you're exposed to advertising in America you're reminded that this country's most profitable business is still the manufacture, packaging, distribution, and marketing of bullshit. High-quality, grade-A, prime-cut, pure American bullshit.

The more syllables a euphemism has, the further divorced from reality it is.

If I ever lose my mind I hope some honest person will find it and take it to Lost and Found.

These days many politicians are demanding change. Just like homeless people.