I've noticed that if you spend ten years without shooting dope, people consider you an ex-junkie, but one never is considered an 'ex-woman-beater.'

I prefer for a woman's most private of areas to have as much hair as Carlos Santana's entire band, head to toe, circa 1972.

I think that any time a person comes face-to-face with their own mortality - close enough to Death that they can smell its breath - they have a choice: 1) Fall to pieces; 2) Reassemble yourself and keep walking.

In a perverse way, it's very patriarchal to think that women can't be malicious or violent.

In my long, long years toiling around the publishing industry, I've found that women simply don't stick to the writing with the same fervor that men do.

San Francisco, America's B-movie imitation of Paris. San Francisco, the city that ruined punk rock. San Francisco, the most intolerant place in the country.

I don't think fatherhood's changed me so much as it's conjured protective instincts I've had all along.