What if there were no grownups? Suppose the whole idea of grownups was an illusion? What if their money was really just playground marbles, their business deals no more than baseball-card trades, their wars only games of guns in the park? What if they were all still snotty-nosed kids inside their suits and dresses? Christ, that couldn't be, could it? It was too horrible to think about.

I've killed enough of the world's trees.

Theres a constant struggle going on about how much will be illegal and how much you will be free to take. Can we open the pharmacies? Can we put Valium and Percodan and those sorts of things out on the shelves? I wouldn't take it. I don't know.

Little by little, writers develop their own styles, each as unique as a fingerprint.

There are things of such darkness and horror—just, I suppose, as there are things of such great beauty—that they will not fit through the puny human doors of perception.

Anything with the power to make you laugh over thirty years later isn’t a waste of time. I think something like that is very close to immortality.

I win, you win. You win, I win. The gun, I win. The fruit, you win. I win, you win.