Why not invest in the future of music, instead of building fortresses to preserve its past?

My favorite time of day is to get up and eat leftovers from dinner, especially spicy food.

Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence.

The imminent demise of the large record companies as gatekeepers of the world's popular music is a good thing, for the most part.

I couldn't talk to people face to face, so I got on stage and started screaming and squealing and twitching.

Cycling can be lonely, but in a good way.

I try to write about small things. Paper, animals, a house... love is kind of big. I have written a love song, though. In this film, I sing it to a lamp.

Analysis is like a lobotomy. Who wants to have all their edges shaved off?

Deep down, I know I have this intuition or instinct that a lot of creative people have, that their demons are also what make them create.

I'm just an advertisement for a version of myself.

I don't care how impossible it seems.

Still, truth is how I remember it now. In a way, I am changing the past from my desk here in the future as I write. It always happens like this. This is how we all tell our story.

The worst thing about movie-making is that it's like life: nobody can go back to correct the mistakes.

Visual pollution is more poisonous than any other pollution because it kills the soul.

It is useless to meet revenge with revenge; it will heal nothing.

I loved sinking my head into Cary Grant's chest.

I'm alienated from this world because its weird and I don't want to be a part of it. I want to be part of the people that are more imaginative and crazy.

Mostly, though, I dream of good things...I dream that flowers will bloom in the streets..again and music will play in the...houses and kites will fly in the skies.

In my experience I haven't met too many uptight black people. I'm sure they're out there. Like I'm some big authority and I've lived in the inner city and ghetto.

I ignored my stand-up career for twenty-five years, but now, having finished this memoir, I view this time with surprising warmth. One can have, it turns out, an affection for the war years.

And there are a million possibilities. Like the possibility of going separate ways. Together.