Why is it alright to be going around, going mental with a gun, shooting all the monkeys and killing them? Because one day we're going to run out.

I always have a problem liking things I'm told I should like.

Well...like, when you're born, you're a little baby, you're wrinkly and stuff, when you get older you sort of morph into a baby again.

My brain's just full of passwords.

You don't get anything done by planning

The great pyramid is overrated. It's a bad design. The lounge is going to be huge, but the bedroom is going to be tiny.

We're just a weed in the universe