That's my punishment in hell, shoveling horseshit.

Here am I, a human being and that has a body that is getting old. And I only have one, I can't trade it in.

To me a saint is a severely edited sinner. That's what I think.

If you look up the word "gab" in the dictionary, it's insignificant of importance, of no substance. That's what gab is.

I stay in the present, so I don't know about the future.

I kind of miss the old sleazy Times Square, in a way. And yet I don't mind not being accosted by all sorts of strange people.

To lose one parent is a tragedy, to lose both is utter carelessness.