There was no such thing as luck. Luck was a word idiots used to explain the consequences of their own rashness, and selfishness, and stupidity. More often than not bad luck meant bad plans.

As a writer, you have to first of all write what you want to. Listen to advice, by all means, but don't get bogged down in it.

But you can't truly hate a man without loving him first, and there's always a trace of that love left over.

Have a smile for breakfast, you'll be shitting joy by lunch.

You don’t pick your family, you take what you’re given and you make the best of it.

The fool strikes. The wise man smiles, and watches, and learns. Then strikes.

History is littered with dead good men