There is nothing worse than a man in the throws of an ether bender.

You can't hoard fun. It has no shelf life.

When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.

A word to the wise is infuriating.

Ah, lives there a man with soul so dead, who never to himself hath said As he hunched and rolled in his comfortable bed: To hell with the rent . . . I'll drink instead!

As things stand now, I am going to be a writer. I'm not sure that I'm going to be a good one or even a self-supporting one, but until the dark thumb of fate presses me to the dust and says 'you are nothing', I will be a writer.

What the hell is the sense of trying to hold the Democratic party together, if it's really a party of expediency, something that's put together every four years?