“But I don’t give up; I forget why not.”

Money cannot buy health, but I’d settle for a diamond-studded wheelchair.

Writing well is the best revenge.

And if my heart be scarred and burned, The safer, I, for all I learned.

Writing is the art of applying the ass to the seat.

The only useful thing I ever learned in school was that if you spit on your eraser it erased ink.

I hate writing, I love having written.

Los Angeles: Seventy-two suburbs in search of a city.

Ducking for apples — change one letter and it’s the story of my life.

[On being shown an apartment by a real estate agent:] Oh, dear, that’s much too big. All I need is room enough to lay a hat and a few friends.

If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?

Heterosexuality is not normal, it’s just common.

Creativity is a wild mind and a disciplined eye.

A liberal is a man who leaves the room before the fight starts.

Of course I talk to myself. I like a good speaker, and I appreciate an intelligent audience.

A girl’s best friend is her mutter.

He is a writer for the ages, the ages of four to eight.

There are castles everywhere filled to the brim with stories swallowed by the wind and long forgotten.

Somewhere while loving you, I forgot to love myself.

Where does a thought go when it’s forgotten?

When we search for what we want Why do we always forget What we have?

I was blinded by the desire to be wanted that I forgot how to love myself.

I am always forgiving too easily as if I have forgotten the way it hurts.

I saved a spider from death. Stuck on the smooth white curvature, Almost drowning in the bathtub of regret. Eight eyes looking up at me, a face he will never forget.

I do not fear death. But I do, a deathbed regret. Life is a blink of an eye. One day forever closed, lest you forget.