And all that weirdness isn't just going on outside. It's in you too, right now, growing in the dark like magic mushrooms. Call it the Thing in the Cellar. Call it the Blow Lunch Factor. Call it the Loony Tunes File. I think of it as my private dinosaur, huge, slimy, and mindless, stumbling around in the stinking swamp of my subconscious, never finding a tar pit big enough to hold it.

Don't let the door hitcha where the good Lord splitcha.

We don't know the days that will change our lives. Probably just as well.

...women are better at keeping secrets, but men are more comfortable with them.

On the day of my judgment, when I stand before God, and He asks me why did I kill one of his true miracles, what am I gonna say? That it was my job? My job?

Did it [cocaine] for about eight years. Not a terribly long time to be an addict I guess, but it is longer than World War II.

Might as well try to drink the ocean with a spoon as argue with a lover.