You wake up in this here world, my sweet li'l mister, you got to wake up tough. You go out that front door tough of a mornin' and you stay tough 'til lights out—have you learned that?

. . . I suppose one starts out, as a child, being romantic and dreaming of adventure. Poetic. Then reality comes along, and with it, a whole lot of prose.

Red is one of the strongest colors, it's blood, it has a power with the eye. That's why traffic lights are red I guess, and stop signs as well... In fact I use red in all of my paintings.

Pale death with an impartial foot knocks at the hovels of the poor and the palaces of king.

I am the trustee for the best bloody fans on the face of the earth.

I hate a conscience. It's always making you feel low down and disreputable. I don't believe I will say anything to my children about one, and let them have some peace.

Sometimes you've got to #‎ believe in someone else's belief in you until your #‎ belief kicks in.

Ability is active power, or power to perform.

Journalists aren't supposed to praise things. It's a violation of work rules almost as serious as buying drinks with our own money or absolving the CIA of something.

One rule which woe betides the banker who fails to heed it/Never lend any money to anybody unless they don't need it.

Inner beauty, too, needs occasionally to be told it is beautiful.