This doesn't seem like one of those 'truth will set you free' situations.

I grew up as a fairly poor kid in, you know, Toronto, Canada. I don't think I owned any new clothes until I was, like, 15 or something. They were all second-hand and forged from paper.

I know it sounds cliche, but you have to believe in yourself because there's going to be moments that no one else does.

I'm a musical theater aficionado, a.k.a. loser.

My parents were hippies. They met at an ashram, where they were studying how to be enlightened.

Broken things can be fixed and healed. Nothing is too difficult or too dirty to clean.

I suffer because my interactions with others do not meet the expectations I did not know I had.

You can always win points

People meeting for the first time suddenly relax if they find they both have cats. And plunge into anecdote.

So that we may not be like the Athenians, who never consulted except after the event done. [Fr., Afin que ne semblons es Athenians, qui ne consultoient jamais sinon apres le cas faict.]

The behavior of the crowd at Churchill Downs is like 100,000 vicious Hyenas going berserk all at once in a space about the size of a 777 jet or the White House lawn.

All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they're a mighty ornery lot. It's the way they're raised.

The good ideas will survive.

God left the world unfinished; the pictures unpainted, the songs unsung, and the problems unsolved, that man might know the joys of creation.

Neither of us are workaholics. I think the key thing is to accept that if you only exist through what you do, then you become what you do, and this is very wrong.