Basically I wake up in the morning and I think everything's going to be great. I'm really kind of optimistic, and I look forward to a new day. I pick up 'The New York Times,' and I look at the front page and realize that once again I'm wrong. I start to fixate on stuff.

Every other civilized country has determined when life begins and it's something that eludes us. We've got things that have to be done! "We didn't fix that bridge because you are all down at the meeting house discussing abortion again."

North Korea is the country that the monkeys in the Wizard of Oz came from.

All the candy corn that was ever made was made in 1911.

Should I eat this or should I eat this? Well, I'll have to eat both!

I knew that I'd lived in New York too long when, a few years ago, I was on a subway going downtown, and it stopped at 14th Street. At the station, the doors opened, and the conductor announced that there was a bomb on board and we should evacuate immediately. Nobody moved. We just looked at each other, 'Do you see a bomb?' 'I don't see a bomb.' 'There's no bomb.' 'I've only got two stops - let's go for it.

I continue to work on plays, but I've always felt that you could put a note in a bottle and send it offshore, and you'd have as much chance communicating with people.