Yes, from drinking too much beer and generally being a tyrannical egomaniac.

When you live on the edge of a cursed forest, you do a lot of staring into the dark.

The smell of the ocean, southern breeze, blue sky, and the gentle sound of dancing waves make me sing the song of love.

When the chips are down, you are alone, and loneliness can be terrifying. Fortunately, I've always had a chum I could call. And I love to be alone. It doesn't bother me one bit. I’m my own company.

I need time every day to think.

If I go on talking and talking...and telling you things about pretending, I shall bear it better. You don't forget, but you bear it better.

If you say you've had a nervous breakdown or things aren't right mentally, people run away from you. They think you're from 'One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest,' you know.

They who humble themselves before knowledge of any kind generally end up the wiser and as voices with something meaningful to say.

Now son, you don’t want to drink beer. That’s for Daddies, and kids with fake IDs.

The Rosary is my favorite prayer. A prayer so simple and so rich; from deepest heart, I exhort all to recite it.

You're gonna have to go through hell, worse than any nightmare you've ever dreamed. But when it's over, I know you'll be the one standing. You know what you have to do. DO IT!

Composing mortals with immortal fire.