A wise man, once he is past fifty, does not befuddle his senses with strong drink, nor make violent love in the cool spring night, nor dance on his hands.

I heard wordOf bellied sailcloth, Creak of oars, And gold in Eastland.Then I smelledA smell remembered:Salt of sprayAnd black-pitched boat's keel.

Mulled ale for the frozen man, And mulled ale for the weary:For mulled ale is the body's friendAnd makes the sick heart merry.

Sometimes I feel like my whole life before she died was a dream.

It may come as an extraordinary shock to you but you're the only woman who has ever succeeded in getting under my skin. It could be because you're a raving lunatic.

Just breathe and believe.

I'd like to say that parody is a celebration of a person's specific characteristics, as opposed to mockery.

As long as I can reach somebody, then I feel like I'm doing my job.

I am whole, perfect, strong, powerful, loving, harmonious, and happy.

Not as intolerable as being dead, in my opinion, but I'm very fond of me. I would miss me a lot.

I figured out if I have a good goal in mind, then I can actually achieve it.

If he wants to get that next contract, he's going to have to go to the New York Athletic Club three times a day and just ride the bike.

Democracy is, by the nature of it, a self-canceling business: and gives in the long run a net result of zero.