Nixon was a crook, of course, but he was also a rabid football fan - and he knew the game, which still astounds me, but I have always had a soft spot for him because of it.

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.

Is it reasonable to assume that the jarring nature of a particular consequence might be the very thing that strong-arms us away from making the poor choice that we didn't see as a poor choice?

You are never more alive than when you are enraptured by pain.

So many people are on the front lines of this fossil fuel frenzy. It is infused with a sense of urgency.

If we are indeed created in God's image, then we, too, must create and then we, too, must rest.

If you are not happier every day, if you don't see a progression of development, then you are certainly not practicing yoga or Buddhism and therefore you cannot be amassing any positive karma.

Do you think Sammy Davis ate Junior Mints?

I love a broad margin to my life. Sometimes, in a summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, I sat in my sunny doorway from sunrise til noon, rapt in a revery.

Generally speaking, rhyme is the marker for the end of a line. The first rhyme-word is like a challenge thrown down, which the poem itself has to respond to.

You can't put a price tag on love, but you can on all its accessories.

Reading books is fantastic. I didn't do it until ten years ago. It's great.