“Unpleasant reading on the subject of anger tells us that there’s not really anything wrong with it. In limited amounts. It can even be a good thing. A pressure valve.”

I live a sensible life. You know, I don’t take on too much.

Every comic can report a few ‘gift from the gods’ moments.

I don’t think anyone ever gets over the surprise of how differently one audience’s reaction is from another.

I have a long list of things that make me mad.

Comedians are sometimes resentful of their writers. Probably because it’s hard for giant egos to admit you need anyone but yourself to be what you are.

Show people tend to treat their finances like their dentistry. They assume the man handling it knows what he is doing.

I’m not freakishly short. I had, on my show, used shortness as a joke subject; it didn’t really bother me.

I get a kick out of people saying I was funny.

I feel sorry for the poor kids whose parents feel they’re qualified to teach them at home. Of course, some parents are smarter than some teachers, but in the main I see home-schooling as misguided foolishness.

Home schooling as an idea is on a par with home dentistry.

It was well after college that I learned about depression. I got my first job for Jack Paar. I realized I was sleeping 14 hours a day and just living for the Paar show.

Every time I nostalgically try to regain my liking of John McCain, he reaches into his sleaze bag and pulls out something malodorous.

My IQ is somewhere between Spiro Agnew’s and Albert Einstein’s.

To call New York’s traffic at holiday time a nightmare is to understate.

There were several things a Yale freshman was supposed to be able to do. You had to demonstrate in the Olympic-size Yale pool that you could swim 50 yards or be inducted into swimming class.

History is not reassuring on the subject of the longevity of seemingly lasting great nations, is it?