In a mad moment, my family and I purchased a home in Maine because it's the place in the world that my wife loves better than any other place or any other human, and so I have committed my life and what had once been my economic security that has now returned to insecurity, to a patch of painful, rocky land on the shores of horrible, cold waters to a place where people go in the summer to experience autumn because leaves start falling on August 1.

Do not listen to the killjoys who tell you never to eat oysters in months that do not contain the letter R: May, June, July, August, Octoba. You know.

Sports is a bloodless rehearsal of confrontation, and everyone shakes hands or high fives or fist bumps at the end to show that everything is okay.

So much of creativity is the feeling that you're either getting a gift from some other dimension or some other part of yourself.

Most people presume my mustache is not real because it's much darker than my regular hair.

Americans don't need a metaphor for war. We have war. If anything, we use war as a metaphor for sports.

I would be good for maybe not the center square but an upper square on 'Hollywood Squares.'