I don't believe in Elvis.

I put things down on sheets of paper and stuff them in my pockets. When I have enough, I have a book.

I'm a freakin' artist, man, not a (expletive) race horse.

Why in the world are we here? Surely not to live in pain and fear. Why on earth are you there, when you're everywhere - come and get your share.

I didn't really know that much about the Maoists, but I just knew that they seemed to be so few and yet they painted themselves green and stood in front of the police waiting to get picked off.

We put a President up there, and then we set fire to him because he's not solving all our problems.

It was like being in the eye of a hurricane. You'd wake up in a concert and think, Wow, how did I get here?