I type in one place, but I write all over the house.

All art is knowing when to stop.

I have difficulties with contemporary language. Big difficulties. I counted, you know, something like 160 words have disappeared from the English language because of the use of the word "like." "I'm like, he's like" - not "thought," not "as if ."

Love is or it ain't. Thin love ain't love at all.

We're all surrounded by what I call faux language, fake language of commerce, of news media.

I want to feel what I feel. What's mine. Even if it's not happiness, whatever that means. Because you're all you've got.

What difference do it make if the thing you scared of is real or not?