The pleasure is in the path, the search for something good.

The reason most people play golf is to wear clothes they would not be caught dead in otherwise.

I’m a word freak. I like words. I’ve always compared writing to music. That’s the way I feel about good paragraphs. When it really works, it’s like music.

Bush is a natural-born loser with a filthy-rich daddy who pimped his son out to rich oil-mongers. He hates music, football and sex, in no particular order, and he is no fun at all.

In the meantime, I would drink, rest, and ponder the meaning of this mob.

In a nation ruled by swine, all pigs are upward mobile.

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