Futility has become a great subject, full of opportunities.

Pain narrows consciousness; pleasure blurs it.

When Medusa looks in the mirror, she sees the Lady of Sorrows.

My passions have never jumped out of the fireplace and set fire to the carpet.

Retirement requires the invention of a new hedonism, not a return to the hedonism of youth

The sewing machine joins what the scissors have cut asunder, plus whatever else comes in its path.

Clothes make a statement. Costumes tell a story.

The laughter of the aphorism is sometimes triumphant, but seldom carefree.

'Be faithful to your roots' is the liberal version of 'Stay in your ghetto.'

Every day begins with an act of courage and hope: getting out of bed.

Totem poles and wooden masks no longer suggest tribal villages but fashionable drawing rooms in New York and Paris.

It does not need to be perfect - or technically correct - to be magic

Happy is still Happy, with or without the Ever After.

Clever talk, ingratiating looks, fawning reverence: Tso-ch’iu Ming found that shameful, and so do I. Friendly while harboring resentment: Tso-ch’iu Ming found that shameful, too, and so do I.

Watching an entrepreneur fail is sad, but watching him fail from lack of nerve is tragic.

Maybe I don't take myself so seriously any more. And I don't care how I'm judged. I'm past all that.

You can shut out the world. But you always have to stop, and the world is always waiting when you do.

I do sing about drinking, but it's in a party way. I don't sing about drinking in a drowning-my-sorrows way, like in George Jones's "If Drinking Don't Kill Me (Her Memory Will)."

If one is of the masculine gender, a poodle is the insignia of one's deviation.

I usually get freaked out if I'm in a situation where a lot of people recognise me at once.

I get called an adrenaline junkie every other minute, and I'm just fine with that.