We’re all tourists, sort of. Life is tourism, sort of. As far as I’m concerned, the dinosaurs still hold the lease on this godforsaken rock.

The villain is the person who knows the most but cares the least.

Art and love are the same thing: It’s the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you.

The essays are very solipsistic and self-absorbed, I'm totally conscious of that. To me, book writing is fun, and I basically just write about things that are entertaining to myself.

Anybody who says they are a good liar obviously is not, because any legitimately savvy liar would always insist they're honest about everything.

Seeing no resolution to my existential recognition of loss, I decide to eat lunch.

First, you must love yourself. And if you do that convincingly enough, others will love you too much.

People who talk about their dreams are actually trying to tell you things about themselves they’d never admit in normal conversation.

I love the way music inside a car makes you feel invisible; if you plan the stereo at max volume, it's almost like the other people can't see into your vehicle. It tints your windows, somehow.

The most wretched people in the world are those who tell you they like every kind of music 'except country.' People who say that are boorish and pretentious at the same time.

Sarcasm is when you tell someone the truth by lying on purpose.

These Days, Keeping Anything "Simple" Is The Most "Complex" Task To Do....

You can hide things from the world, but you can never hide things from time.

I didn't have any success in show business until I was 30 to 31 years of age.

I have come too late into a world too old.

The Middle East is gorgeous, but again, politically, I would not want to go there.

The greatest fear that I have regarding the outcome for America of these disclosures is that nothing will change.

Don't we all have an itch for kitsch?

Constellations shine with light that was emitted aeons ago, and I wait for something to come to me, words that a poet might use to illuminate life's mysteries. But there is nothing.

My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.

All beautiful things must end. Otherwise they are not beautiful.