“My puns are not trivial. They are quadrivial.”

Thought is the thought of thought.

Every jackass going the roads thinks he has ideas.

Ask no questions and you’ll hear no lies.

Love loves to love love.

Shakespeare is the happy hunting ground of all minds that have lost their balance.

An Irishman needs three things : silence, cunnning, and exile.

He wanted to cry quietly but not for himself: for the words, so beautiful and sad, like music.

We are all born in the same way but we all die in different ways.

Time’s ruins build eternity’s mansions.

Absence, the highest form of presence.

Let my country die for me.

His heart danced upon her movement like a cork upon a tide.

It is as painful perhaps to be awakened from a vision as to be born.

There’s many a true word spoken in jest.

Bury the dead. Say Robinson Crusoe was true to life. Well then Friday buried him. Every Friday buries a Thursday if you come to look at it.

Why is it that words like these seem dull and cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?

Somebody’s been putting pineapple juice in my pineapple juice!

If pigs had wings, they would be pigeons.

I like meeting all my fans and signing autographs, although it can all get a bit crazy. Yesterday, for example, a boy just came over and planted a big kiss on my face! I was like, Hello?

I made two mistakes and both of them are sitting on the Supreme Court. [Referring to Earl Warren and William Brennan]

I remember really vividly kneeling by my bed as a nine-year-old, saying my prayers and asking God to give me boobs that were so big that if I laid on my back I wouldn’t be able to see my feet.

There can’t be a crisis next week, my schedule is already full.

Searchin for peace be like fishing for water.

I do not think, therefore I am a moustache.