“All people are born alike except Republicans and Democrats.”

Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today.

While money can’t buy happiness, it certainly lets you choose your own form of misery.

Go, and never darken my towels again.

When you’re in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, ‘Damn, that was fun’.

She’s so in love with me, she doesn’t know anything. That’s why she’s in love with me.

Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it.

Only one man in a thousand is a leader of men – the other 999 follow women.

All geniuses die young.

A year ago I came here without a nickle in my pocket, now, I’ve got a nickle in my pocket.

Laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you’re probably watching the wrong channel.

I am free of all prejudices. I hate every one equally.

I never go to movies where the hero’s tits are bigger than the heroine’s.

If you’ve heard this story before, don’t stop me, because I’d like to hear it again.

I love my cigar too, but I take it out of my mouth once in a while.

Die in the West and you’re halfway to Heaven.

I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book.

I imagine the earth when I am no more: Women’s dresses, dewy lilacs, a song in the valley. Yet the books will be there on the shelves, well born, Derived from people, but also from radiance, heights.

Kindness gives birth to kindness.

He was right – she was beating herself up about hurting his feelings. The girl was a classic martyr. She’d totally been born in the wrong century. She should have lived back when she could have gotten herself fed to some lions for a good cause.

We go to the grave of a friend saying, “A man is dead,” but angels throng about him saying, “A man is born.”

Whatever inspiration is, it’s born from a continuous “I don’t know.

Thankful for the rose grateful for its thorns these lessons bloom like weeds from them I am reborn.

She has learned so much from dying only to be born again.

Aren’t all poets born from tragedy?