Actually, the only memory I have of being a Cub Scout was trying to get my hat back. That was all I did. Run back and forth at my bus stop going "Quit it."

I mean, she's giving and caring and genuinely concerned about the welfare of others. I can't be with someone like that.

That's the true spirit of Christmas; people being helped by people other than me.

There are more social skills required to talk one-on-one [than to an audience]. You don't have to be socially fluid to talk to two thousand people.

Well, birthdays are merely symbolic of how another year has gone by and how little we've grown. No matter how desperate we are that someday a better self will emerge, with each flicker of the candles on the cake, we know it's not to be, that for the rest of our sad, wretched pathetic lives, this is who we are to the bitter end. Inevitably, irrevocably; happy birthday? No such thing.

The peak of being a fan is a hotdog and a beer and a seat at the game. There's nothing above that. Nothing above it.

I'm old, I'm rich and I'm tired.