“If life is so meaningless, then why are we always bringing it up?”

We are people with lives, not consumers with lifestyles.

Being a New Yorker is never having to say you are sorry.

Every day I read the newspapers, and no matter how cynical I get, it’s imposssible to keep up.

If love is the answer, could you please rephrase the question?

Ninety eight percent of the adults in this country are decent, hardworking, honest Americans. It’s the other lousy two percent that get all the publicity. But then, we elected them.

After all, in private, we’re all misfits.

I wanted to be a stage actress. I wanted to be a New York actress and have a community with other actors. I didn’t want to get famous; I always thought getting famous was a drag on you.

What I appreciate is acknowledging to the audience that I think they have brains.

Did you know, throughout the cosmos they found intelligent life forms that play to play? We are the only ones that play to win. Explains why we have more than our share of losers.

I bought a box of animal crackers, but there was nothing inside. They’d eaten each other.

Sometimes I worry about being a success in a mediocre world.

No matter how cynical you become, it’s never enough to keep up.

Things are going to get a lot worse before they get worse.

What goes up must come down. But don’t expect it to come down where you can find it.

I worry that the person who thought up Muzak may be thinking up something else.

If trying harder doesn’t work, try softer.

Americans want to go to heaven without dying.

No human is perfect; we all have our hidden sins. Hypocrisy is to delude yourself into denying your own sins and allow arrogance to grow within you.

Hypocrisy is a fashionable vice, and all fashionable vices pass for virtue.

On trade, our hypocrisy is at its most appalling. Trade reform isn’t about charity, it’s about justice, and this campaign, Trade Justice is an unstoppable idea.

Our actual enemy is not any force exterior to ourselves, but our own crying weaknesses, our cowardice, our selfishness, our hypocrisy, our purblind sentimentalism.

Yet the order of the acts is planned And the end of the way inescapable. I am alone; all drowns in the Pharisees’ hypocrisy.

At the very end, the one person who Rambo should kill, he doesn’t kill. He lets it live. Because you can’t kill that kind of hypocritical bureaucracy. It goes on forever.

Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but no one wants to die to get there!