Of all human weakness obsession is the most dangerous. And the silliest.

"Boy, the food at this place is really terrible." The other one says, "Yeah, I know; and such small portions." Well, that's essentially how I feel about life - full of loneliness, and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness, and it's all over much too quickly.

Marriage is like mushrooms: we notice too late if they are good or bad.

I want to return to the womb, anyone's.

The artist's job is not to succumb to despair but to find an antidote for the emptiness of existence.

I don't know the question, but sex is definitely the answer.

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].