During the course of the year a number of ideas just come up automatically. I could be walking down the street. Or shaving. An idea will hit me and I'll write it down. Then, when I'm ready to write, I check my little matchbooks and napkins and find that it is good or it's pretty terrible. There are other times when I don't have any ideas and I'll go into a room and close the door and I sit and sweat it out for a day or a month and eventually I come up with [something].

I'm short enough and ugly enough to succeed on my own.

I was walking through the woods, thinking about Christ. If He was a carpenter, I wondered what He charged for bookshelves.

I love baseball. You know, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just very beautiful to watch.

Take the money and run.

People are always talking about the dumbing down of the country.

Geez, I should stop ruining my life searching for answers I'm never gonna get, and just enjoy it while it lasts.