I can't abide small talk.

I'm a Taurus, you know. A bull. I belong in a field.

I have two vintage typewriters. One just about works and the other hasn't a hope in hell, bless it. But they're both beautiful, and they'll stay with me just as long as there's a roof over my head.

We must remember to enjoy ourselves.

I want truth. I'm crying out to hear it. I need it like oxygen.

I once knew a girl who didn't know where anywhere was in the world. Not a clue. I asked her if she knew where Africa was and she answered, 'Is it the orange one on a map?'

I can't abide small talk.