You can name your own salary in this business. I call mine Fred.

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.

I live in a tough neighborhood. They got a children's zoo. Last week, four kids escaped.

When I was born the doctor took one look at my face, turned me over and said, "Look, twins!"

Time and tide and hookers wait for no man.

I went to look for a used car and found my wife's dress in the back seat.

She was so ugly that her face could stop a sundial.