I enjoy inventing things out of fun. After all, life is a game, not a career.

As no two people see the world the same way, all trips from here to there are imaginary; all truth is a tale I am telling myself.

What are we here for? Does the great metaphysical nut revolve around that? Well, I'll crack it for you, right now. What are we here for? We are here to go!

I could easily blast so much keef night and day I become a bouhali; a real-gone crazy, a holy untouchable madman unto whom everything is permitted, nothing is true.

Man is a bad animal.

Writing is fifty years behind painting.

You should never do two things. You should hammer one nail all your life, and I didn't do that; I hammered on a lot of nails like a xylophone.

Writers don't own their words. Since when do words belong to anybody. "Your very own words," indeed ! And who are you?

When ya gotta goNow we know what we are here for. We are not here to love fear and serve any old bearded but invisible thunder god. We are here to go.

The more she turned right the more I turned wrong.

The pride of man hopes but to blame God for the evils of the world, and to praise himself for the good.

Everybody hates lies even the liars themselves

What does so-called success or failure matter if only you have succeeded in doing the thing you set out to do. The doing is all that really counts.

I like to break left when people think I'm going to go right.

But love is always new. Regardless of whether we love once, twice, or a dozen times in our life, we always face a brand-new situation.

Look into the depths of your own soul and learn first to know yourself, then you will understand why this illness was bound to come upon you and perhaps you will thenceforth avoid falling ill.

Be loved, be admired, be necessary; be somebody.

Some great people are leaders and others are more lucky, in the right place at the right time. I'd put myself in the latter category. But I'd never call myself a normal designer of anything.

Gaze no more in the bitter glass The demons, with their subtle guile, Lift up before us when they pass, Or only gaze a little while.