I'm going to my psychoanalyst one more year, then I'm going to Lourdes.

Yes, but the difference is that when you're dead and somebody yells, 'Everybody up, it's morning,' it's very hard to find your slippers.

Arlene and I have to get a divorce. She thinks I'm a pervert because I drank our water bed.

Please forgive me. My pedicurist had a stroke. She fell forward onto the orange stick and plunged it into my toe. It required bandaging.

Subjectivity is objective.

I didn't know he was dead; I thought he was British.

But what if everyone in the world behaved like me and came here and shot Brisseau through the ear? What a mess! And of course we'd need valet parking.