The world is still a weird place, despite my efforts to make clear and perfect sense of it.

Nixon was no more a saint than he was a great president.

You took too much man, too much, too much.

Reality itself is too twisted.

There’s a lot of things wrong with this country, but one of the few things still right with it is that a man can steer clear of the organized bullshit if he really wants to. It’s a goddamned luxury, and if I were you, I’d take advantage of it while you can.

I harbor a secret urge to whack a salesman in the face, crack his teeth and put red bumps around his eyes.

Sane is rich and powerful. Insane is wrong and poor and weak. The rich are free, the poor are put in cages. Res Ipsa Loquitur, amen. Mahalo.