There are many really stupid ideas that wind up being brilliant, if you can implement them.

When you walk through a bad neighborhood, you don't want a poodle by your side. You want a Rottweiler.

Life is too short to have anything but delusional notions about yourself.

I'm forbidden fruit. Once you go to certain households, mommy doesn't want you to see that dirty man who sticks his tongue out and spits out blood and all that stuff.

Rock is about finding who you are. You don't necessarily have to play your instrument very well at all. You can just barely get by and you can be in a rock band.

There’s an old adage that says that money is the root of all evil. Bullshit. Lack of money is the root of all evil.

The death of rock was not a natural death. Rock did not die of old age. It was murdered.

In time of war, if you go through a bad neighborhood, I don't want a little French poodle, I want a Rottweiler on my hands.

James Bond has a license to kill, rockstars have a license to be outrageous. Rock is about grabbing people's attention.

It's hard to see your destination when you're focused on the cracks in the sidewalk.

When you really think about it, I'm not delusional enough to think that what I do is important to life as we know it on this planet. No. But neither is what you do.

Is there possibility somebody to don't lie and to don't say the truth??- Truth hurts!- Lie, just makes mess after mess and mess and you just die as liar (You don't want it, do you?)

Any fool can criticize and many of them do.

I wanted a trumpet concerto that reflected Native American music because, well, there aren't any. I looked around for one but couldn't find anything. So it's a wide-open field.

I was thinking - if we get a cell with a trouser press, we can make cheese toasties.

I have always been told that I was a funny, entertaining person and have always been told to give comedy a try.

I don't think of the ashram world as being any more spiritual than the corporate world.

I love Mariah Carey. Remember the breakdown? I loved the breakdown.

When you're rereading or editing your book and you start to expect that this work is going to be reviewed, and you can sort of tell which line is going to show up in reviews.

The writer has to force himself to work. He has to make his own hours and if he doesn't go to his desk at all there is nobody to scold him.

One way to compensate for a tiny brain is to pretend to be dead.