We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell

Maybe that's what life is... a wink of the eye and winking stars.

Practice kindness all day to everybody and you will realize you're already in heaven now.

Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion.

Put down the pen someone else gave you. No one ever drafted a life worth living on borrowed ink.

I saw that my life was a vast glowing empty page and I could do anything I wanted.

He had no place he could stay in without getting tired of it and because there was nowhere to go but everywhere, keep rolling under the stars.

Everything is ecstasy inside. We just don't know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind [it] is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever.

It is not my fault that certain so-called bohemian elements have found in my writings something to hang their peculiar beatnik theories on.

Live, travel, adventure, bless, and don't be sorry.

You can't teach the old maestro a new tune.

All the arguing in the world won't change the mind of the Umpire.

Is it a stale remark to say that I have constantly found the interest excited at a playhouse to bear an exact inverse proportion to the price paid for admission?

Live each day, as if it we're your last. It's written in the stars, your destiny is cast.

Every oak tree started out as a couple of nuts who stood their ground.

My friends actually found a fansite of mine, and they all registered to be in it.

I do believe that everyone has something to contribute.

Break the skin of civilization and you find the ape, roaring and red-handed.

So much of our culture is bought and manufactured - not to say great art can't come out of that. Some art is really amazing that is manufactured and sold, like action movies and stuff.

My friend...care for your psyche...know thyself, for once we know ourselves, we may learn how to care for ourselves

Of every noble work the silent part is best; of all expression, that which cannot be expressed.