“What we used to settle with common sense or a fist, we settle with hand sanitizer and lawyers.”

Of course on air I use occasional hyperbole to tell a story.

This is why the terrorists hate us. And it’s not the glitter and it’s not the pomp and circumstance.

Well, the post office is probably not the place you want to go if you want to be infused with patriotism and a renewed sense of vigor.

I am semi-ambivalent about being on camera – sort of low-key. I don’t like being on camera stuff that much.

My first car was a motorcycle.

You shouldn’t be eating anything that takes six minutes to microwave.

It’s like the Fouth of July in my underpants.

I want to work for myself, and I do work for myself. I make plenty of money working for myself.

I spoke to my dad, and he said it took close to 90 dollars to raise me. But that was me and my sister, and my sister moved out when she was 16, so sometimes it can knock you up to triple digits to raise a kid.

I have a daughter who I love very much, I hire women, I’ve worked with women, I’ve never had an issue with women.

I am not a good cue card reader.

Oprah tells women what to read, what to eat, what to think, what to do.

I’ve never not finished a masturbatory session or a pizza. Those are the two things I’ve never left behind.

When I say things that sound insane, like only the smartest million people should have the right to vote, well, I mean that.

Those dads that go off to Florida and start a new life, I couldn’t imagine that: seeing my kid once every Christmas, every three years. If I’m gone for six days it feels like too much

You don’t cruise the Internet looking for your name and walk away with a good feeling. So, I never do it.

When I go out and I meet people who are suffering and they come and talk to me, Mr. T cries, Mr. T who could break a man’s jaw with his fist.

It’s incredible considering the public perception that he was tight fisted and he was more than prudent.

Like all New York hotel lady cashiers she had red hair and had been disappointed in her first husband.

I felt the crumpled paper that had taken the place of my lungs expand as if released from a fist.

We cannot sow seeds with clenched fists. To sow we must open our hands.

Because we know that we cannot sow seeds with clenched fists.

My chest expanded and I suddenly wanted to beat on it with my fist. The girl was making me go all caveman.” -Marcus Hardy

Your words hit harder than your fists, Neither missed.