The successful leader does not talk down to people. He lifts them up.

Because the public lands belong to all Americans, this 1872 Mining Act should be repealed.

Most days I feel like the sole survivor of a shipwreck, rowing my paddleboat across a sea of people on waves made of an infinite array of hands and crests that reveal anonymous faces. On a good day, the clouds part to alight on-lo and behold-an island! I step ashore, only find that it too is made of people, mangled bodies somehow still alive. They grab at my feet, pulling me under like quicksand. The last thing I see before suffocating is the sky, a billion eyes staring down, blinking in undulating electric ripples. The cold rain I feel on my cheeks is the tears of the people.

I seriously doubt if we will ever have another war. This is probably the very last one.

The Bohemian Grove, which I attend from time to time - it is the most faggy goddamned thing you could ever imagine.

Baseball without fans is like Jayne Mansfield without a sweater. Hang on, that can be taken two ways.

I would not like to be a political leader in Russia. They never know when they're being taped.