Number one: Don't frisk me. Don't hurt me physically. Don't get anywhere near my neck. And don't call me Regis.

Next in importance to having a good aim is to recognize when to pull the trigger.

They say there are about 12 million illegal immigrants in this country. But if you ask a Native American, that number is more like 300 million.

Are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance?

I feel like Bush presidencies are like "Godfather" films. You should stop at two.

I was Christmas shopping and ran into a guy on the street. I noticed his watch and said that it runs slow. He said, "So does the guy I stole it from."

President Bush says he needs a month off to unwind. Unwind? When the hell does this guy wind?

Traffic signals in New York are just rough guidelines.

The White House is giving George W. Bush intelligence briefings. You know? some of these jokes just write themselves.

Way too much coffee. But if it weren't for the coffee, I'd have no identifiable personality whatsoever.

Somebody threw a book at President Obama. If you're trying to scare a president by throwing a book at him, you're one president too late.

Christmas has become a public affirmation of the power and benignity of the state, to which we all make obeisance in the sybolism of the breath test ceremony.

The fact that the ministerial conspiracy against liberty had risen from corruption was of the utmost importance to the colonists.

I have to erase my Google search histories, because they always lead to an obituary.

The studio is a laboratory, not a factory. An exhibition is the result of your experiments, but the process is never-ending. So an exhibition is not a conclusion.

And you know, talk about something else is falling from the sky. And that is an asteroid. What's coming our way? Is this an effect of perhaps global warming or just some meteoric occasion?

A great sorrow, like a mariner's quadrant, brings the sun at noon down to the horizon, and we learn where we are on the sea of life.

Let us be merciful as well as just.

You used to be much more..."muchier." You've lost your muchness.

Most people say they talk to me and I sound older.

Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I; every man to his business.