I’ve tried writing and the sentences come out fine, but I write a few pages and I don’t want to go on.

Our happiest moments as tourists always seem to come when we stumble upon one thing while in pursuit of something else.

I haven't got anything against cats. I haven't got anything against elk either, but that doesn't mean I'm going to keep one in the store so I'll have a place to hang my hat.

Every year there's a few more things I'm not sure of. I've decided that a wide-ranging uncertainty is the mark of the true maturity of man.

To say I drank my way into marriage isn't much of an exaggeration, and it's none at all to say I drank my way out of it.

Stories are like assholes. Everybody's got one and most of 'em stink.

This church was open and seemingly unattended, and it was a throwback in another way as well. The candles in the little side altars were real ones, actual wax candles that burned with an open flame. Lots of churches have switched over to electrified altars. You drop your quarter in the slot and a flame-shaped bulb goes on and stays on for your quarter's worth of time. It's like a parking meter, and if you stay too long they tow away your soul.