Life's a short trip. You'll find out.

One night I asked a cabbie to take me where the action is, he took me to my house.

My life is nothing but pressure. All pressure. This pressure is like a heaviness. It's always on top of me, this heaviness. It's always there since I'm a kid. Other people wake up in the morning, 'A new day! Ah, up and at 'em!' I wake up, the heaviness is waiting for me nice. Sometimes I even talk to it. I say [adopts cheerful voice] 'Hi, heaviness!' and the heaviness looks back at me, [in an ominous growl] 'Today you're gonna get it good. You'll be drinking early today.'

When I was forty, I was getting divorced, living in a low-class, dirty hotel in New York. My mother was dying of cancer. I owed $20,000. That was about the lowest. I came back to show business, and I couldn't get a job. I was turned down by every small-time agent in New York.

My wife had her drivers’ test the other day. She got 8 out of 10. The other 2 guys jumped clear.

With my doctor, I don't get no respect. I told him I want a vasectomy. He said with a face like mine, I don't need one.

Hey everybody, we're all gonna get laid!