What else do I have to offer? Nothing happens to me anymore. That’s the reality of getting old, and I guess that’s really the crux of the matter. I’m not ready to be old yet.

Sometimes I think if I had to choose between an ear of corn or making love to a woman, I'd choose the corn.

Even when I look straight into the milky blue eyes I can't find myself any more. When did I stop being me?

Jacob: I've never seen so much manure. Wade: Baggage stock horses. They pack'em in 27 a car. Jacob: how do you stand the smell? Wade: what smell?

With a secret like that, at some point the secret itself becomes irrelevant. The fact that you kept it does not.

When will people learn that just because you can make something doesn’t mean you should?

You work hard on a book and throw it out there and then it's beyond your control.