“A man is only as old as the woman he feels.”

Why don’t you bore a hole in yourself and let the sap run out?

Who says Television isn’t educational, as soon as the T.V. comes on I read a book.

Any place I hang my head is home.

Everyone must believe in something. I believe I’ll have another beer.

We left New York drunk and early on the morning of February second.

Well, art is art, isn’t it? Still, on the other hand, water is water!

The trouble with writing a book about yourself is that you can’t fool around.

My mother loved children – she would have given anything if I had been one.

Man does not control his own fate. The women in his life do that for him.

If you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce, they taste much more like prunes than rhubarb does.

A hospital bed is a parked taxi with the meter running.

Either this man is dead or my watch has stopped.

I’ve got a good mind to go out and join a club and beat you over the head with it.

Marriage is a wonderful institution, but who wants to live in an institution?

If you write about yourself the slightest deviation makes you realize instantly that there may be honor among thieves, but you are just a dirty liar.

I wouldn’t want to belong to a club that would have me as a member.

And anyone who thinks they can talk about quantum theory without feeling dizzy hasn’t yet understood the first thing about it.

We are all agreed that your theory is crazy. The question which divides us is whether it is crazy enough to have a chance of being correct. My own feeling is that it is not crazy enough.

The darkness feels like home. And the truth is, I’m tired.  I can’t pretend like there’s light anymore.

My faith rests not in what I am, or shall be, or feel, or know, but in what Christ is, in what he has done, and in what he is doing for me.

I never felt I had questions or needed answers or had a part of me that was missing.

Questions are like gifts – it’s the thought behind them that the receiver really feels. We have to know the receiver to give the right gift and to ask the right question. Generic gifts and questions are all right, but personal gifts and questions feel better.

I’m feeling lucky like a four-leaf clover.

I know how I like my house. I like it cute and cozy and a little funky, and I like it to feel lived in and worn, and I like the things inside of it to work. That’s all. And for me, it’s fine that my house’s interior suggests that I might not spend every waking moment thinking about how it looks.