Like so many other recovered alcoholics, I am to this day bewildered that it took so long for me to understand that there was no such animal as 'social drinking' for me; that it had nothing to do with my willpower or self-respect or moral fiber, that it was a simple biochemical intolerance to a drug.

The great people I've met always have time for the niceties.

My only true harmony lies deep within my soul, wherever that is. I know that somehow I am in tune with the universe.

I find it next to impossible to remain politely silent when people prate to me about the glory of being given another chance to live happily ever after!

A rich man can afford to be generous to many.

Everything edible is fried in Texas! Or it is buried in the ground to cook before it is eaten. ... Texas food should be forbidden! 'The steaks at night are big and bright, deep in the heart of Texas!' And they are always afloat in grease. Next morning you are served a smaller steak, which serves as a platform for two fried eggs ... all of this afloat in the same grease! 'Chicken, you say? You bet! Comin' up!' Same grease! They are right. Comin' up! For hours afterwards. I couldn't believe the crust of an apple pie! Same grease!

I have reached a state in life where I can buy a whole house full of chairs and can bump into them until they are black and blue