I wanted to paint a picture some day that people would stand before and forget that it was made of paint. I wanted it to creep into them like a bar of music and mushroom there like a soft bullet.

Oh, I know what to do when I see victuals coming toward me in little old Bagdad-on-the-Subway. I strike the asphalt three times with my forehead and get ready to spiel yarns for my supper.

Sometimes, sleepers turn up as common people who do everyday things, and create a new destiny for themselves when nobody’s watching.

I don't need therapy. I'm not going to see a therapist comedy acts as my therapy. I put my problems out there. I talk about them. I talk about everything before anybody has a chance.

When I believe in something, I support it fully. On that note, I totally don't support Velcro shoes.

The invitation for artists to compete to see who can be the most charitable is a wonderful thing.

I won't have to miss smoking any more. Nobody smokes where I'm going: It's like a row of restaurants in California.

You have to have a thin skin. As a creative person, you have to. You can't get a thick skin.

Absolutely no way to escape enigmans.

I beat myself up in the studio because I know that a lot of people are expecting me to fail.

I still look like a duck.

Foxhunting... the unspeakable pursuing the inedible.