I was once all by myself in a house on Fire Island. Where I compared the original cast recordings of two different versions of The Wild Party. A helicopter should have descended and taken me away to a gay penal colony. But of course, I was already there.

Whenever I stumble over my own feet, or blurt out a thought that makes no sense at all, or leave the house wearing one pattern too many, I always think, 'It's okay, I'm from New Jersey.' I love New Jersey, because it's not just an all-purpose punch line, but probably a handy legal defense, as in 'Yes, I shot my wife because I thought she was Bigfoot, but I'm from New Jersey.'

I believe in a benevolent God not because He created the Grand Canyon or Michelangelo, but because He gave us snacks.

Have you ever been to a picnic? And someone blows up a balloon, and everyone starts tossing it around, and it's always just about to touch the ground, but someone always gets there just in time to tap it back up? That balloon, that's God, the very best in all of us, the kindness, the heavy petting, Funny Girl! ...Evil bores me. It's just one note. It doesn't sing! Oh, of course life sucks! It always will. So why not make the most of it?

Because there’s a clock attached to every beautiful woman. From the second she comes into her own, she begins to decline, because she begins to age. Aging is every beautiful woman’s kryptonite. And so, yes, it’s ridiculous and no, you don’t have much time and of course it’s not fair. Those three statements are the essence of beauty.

Writing is 90 percent procrastination: reading magazines, eating cereal out of the box, watching infomercials.

If God didn't want you to have it, He would never have let you see it.