I’m wondering how long I have to deal with this bullshit before I can brief my troops. Oh, and I gotta feed my goldfish. Let’s get this straight, Blondie—”“Blondie?”“That’s an insult, not a pet name.

For the first time I had the best of both worlds--a mission to live for and a man to love.

So damn pigheaded. I’ve studied you, not to report you, Caspar, but because I want a relationship with you.

You're never able to please everybody, especially when you're transforming a country like Russia.

My job now is to work hard and learn all I can.

Victims of oppression & injustice don't need our spasm of passion....they need our legs & lungs of endurance.

I'm not perfect, but if there are any points given for caring about people with every fiber of your being and giving life all you've got every day, then I suppose I have a shot.

My lazy, unfair assumption is that everything's easier when you're young and stunning. And maybe it is! But I'd like to see for myself.

I definitely had some moments, where, "Wow, these were some hard chords" on some gig.

Subjectivity is my middle name, a trick memory is my pack mule, and self-contradiction is my trusty old jackknife.

There are probably a couple of things I'd never write about until everyone I know is dead. And then there's other stuff which nobody would want to read a book about anyway.

Don't think about what you want to be, but what you want to do. Keep up some kind of a minimum with other things so that society doesn't stop you from doing anything at all.