“We’re in the money, the skies are sunny; old man depression, you are through, you done us wrong!”

Where the underworld can meet the elite, Forty-Second Street.

The rumble of a subway train, the rattle of the taxis.

Tiptoe through the tulips with me.

If you’re a young black dude from the hood you want to come through the hood in a car that makes a lot of noise.

Even though I saw the executioner and the fire, I could not say anything but what I have said.

There are two kinds of comics; there are the ones who build bridges, and then there are the people who walk across the bridges as though they built them. The bridge builders are few and far between.

I don’t choose to insulate myself in engaging in real life. Hence, the public kind of almost knows me as much through my real life that they see through the rag mags.

The more sand has escaped from the hourglass of our life, the clearer we should see through it.

Everybody’s going through changes. No one knows what’s going on.

You can forgive people who do not follow you through a philosophical disquisition.

I have an inner satisfaction of having done what I thought was right at the time which I thought was propitious.