I don't know what people expect when they meet me. They seem to be afraid that I'm going to piss in the potted palm and slap them on the ass.

I have decided to tell the story of my life as best I can, so that my children can separate the truth from the myths that others have created about me, as myths are created about everyone swept up in the turbulent and distorting maelstrom of celebrity in our culture.

Tell me, do you spend time with your family? Good. Because a man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.

I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That's my dream. That's my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a straight razor and surviving.

Privacy is not something that I'm merely entitled to, it's an absolute prerequisite.

(...the non-conformist, how do you keep from getting scarred?)/i don’t! i got a scar here…and uh i got a scar on my knee…and uh a few scars on my soul.

There's a line in the picture where he snarls, 'Nobody tells me what to do.' That's exactly how I've felt all my life.