I'm a true-crime addict. It's not something I'm particularly proud of, but I can't stop.

I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ. Slit me at my belly and it might slide out, meaty and dark, drop on the floor so you could stomp on it.

Friends see most of each other’s flaws. Spouses see every awful last bit.

Dark sides are important. They should be nurtured like nasty black orchids.

The face you give the world tells the world how to treat you.

Love makes you want to be a better man. But maybe love, real love, also gives you permission to just be the man you are.

My mother had always told her kids: if you're about to do something, and you want to know if it's a bad idea, imagine seeing it printed in the paper for all the world to see.

I was not a lovable child, and I'd grown into a deeply unlovable adult. Draw a picture of my soul, and it'd be a scribble with fangs.

They always call depression the blues, but I would have been happy to waken to a periwinkle outlook. Depression to me is urine yellow, washed out, exhausted miles of weak piss.

Sleep is like a cat: It only comes to you if you ignore it.

Ironic people always dissolve when confronted with earnestness, it's their kryptonite

The most sacred thing is to be able to shut your own door.

Details create the big picture.

To see with the eyes of another, to hear with the ears of another, to feel with the heart of another. For the time being, this seems to me an admissible definition of what we call social feeling.

To paint from nature is to realize one's sensations, not to copy what is before one.

When we begin to believe that there is greater joy in working with and for others, rather than just for ourselves, then our society will truly become a place of celebration.

Mother Goose is on the loose, stealing lines from Lenny Bruce.

With my dad passing away, he's always watching me-a big smile on his face, watching every snap on the 50-yard line.

I've always been an outsider; a displaced person.

The hunger of a dragon is slow to wake, but hard to sate.

Photography, like any other art, is a form of communication. The artist is not blowing bubbles for his own gratification, but is speaking a language, is telling somebody something.