I knew a Buddhist once, and I've hated myself ever since.

Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant.

There is an ancient Celtic axiom that says 'Good people drink good beer.' Which is true, then as now. Just look around you in any public barroom and you will quickly see: Bad people drink bad beer. Think about it.

When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.

I never knew where I was going, but I ripped the tits off of everything that got in my way. By the time they figured me out, it was too late.

I don't see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness.

All golfers fear the one-iron. It has no angle, no loft. The one-iron is a confidence-crusher, a fear trip, an almost guarantee of shame, failure, dumbness and humiliation if you ever use it in public.