Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm schizophrenic, and so am I.
I'm a study of a man in chaos in search of frenzy.
When I appeared before the draft board examiner during World War II, he asked me if I thought I could kill. "I don't know about strangers," I replied, "but friends, certainly."
What the world needs is more geniuses with humility; there are so few of us left.
Once I make up my mind, I'm full of indecision.
I could never have a mistress, because I couldn't bear to tell the story of my life all over again.