I'm astounded by people who take eighteen years to write something. That's how long it took that guy to write Madame Bovary, and was that ever on the best-seller list?

I realized, the older I get, the more difficult life becomes. It's not easier, it's more difficult.

When you're on top and you lead the parade, everyone's there throwing lilies and lilac water on your head. But when those parades have gone by and there's a storm in your heart, there are very few people that are going to sit there and listen to you bemoan life.

I take rejection as someone blowing a bugle in my ear to wake me up and get going, rather than retreat.

With writing, I think you have to be honest with yourself. I have a certain kind of writing; that is, I like to really embellish the human spirit. You have to write about something you have a feel for.

In Philadelphia, there's no delineation, they address me as Rocky, for real. They'll say things like: "Rocky, do you like this coat?" Or: "Rock, say hi to my sister." Or: "Yo Rock, I know a great restaurant." There's no Sylvester. Even the Mayor goes: "It's good to have Rocky here today."

Children are the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night. It hurts me to be away from them for a few hours. It really does. I love them and they're girls, so they know how to push my buttons. But I've learned a lot and I have to thank my wife for that.