For every moment of triumph, for every instance of beauty, many souls must be trampled.

The downward spiral of Dumbness in America is about to hit a new low.

Life has become immeasurably better since I have been forced to stop taking it seriously.

When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.

I learned a long time ago that reality was much weirder than anyone's imagination.

Human beings are the only creatures on earth that claim a God and the only thing that behaves like it hasn't got one.

Sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind but falling in love and not getting arrested.

America... just a nation of two hundred million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns and no qualms about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable.

So we shall let the reader answer this question for himself: who is the happier man, he who has braved the storm of life and lived or he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed?

Anything that gets your blood racing is probably worth doing.

Hope rises and dreams flicker and die. Love plans for tomorrow and loneliness thinks of yesterday. Life is beautiful and living is pain.

Sound had always been my portal to poetry, but in the beginning, sound was imagined through the eye.

There are many kinds of beauty, and you can find it where you least expect.

You live your life at the time you live it -- you don't have much of an overview when what's happening to you is still happening.

A girl expecting rescue never learns to save herself. Even with the means, she will find her courage wanting.

I always write lyrics first and the rhythm and the melody come from the lyrics. It always comes from the lyrics: words have rhythm and words have melody.

I admire Meryl Streep and Dustin Hoffman for their sheer dedication to their craft.

The networked world offers the promise that maybe the information technology industry will start to, for the first time in a decade or so, address CEO-level issues.

that darkest of syllables, death.

The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep, somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh.

When I grow up, I still want to be a director.