“come. when i finish writing, let's take a drive up the PCH with a bottle of cheap wine and talk about these lives we built”

“Let's take a drive into the middle of nowhere with a packet of Marlboro lights and talk about our lives.”

“Let's not let this be your life tonight," he says. "Let's get back in the car and pretend we're driving away because we want to... not because we need to. We can pretend I'm taking you somewhere amazing... somewhere you've always wanted to go. You can snuggle up to me and we can talk about how excited we are and we'll talk about everything we'll do when we get there. We can talk about the important stuff later. But tonight... let's not let this be your life.”

“When a private talk over a bottle of wine is broadcast on the radio, what can it mean but that the world is turning into a concentration camp?”

“Bottles of wine aren't like paintings. At some point you have to consume them. The object in life is to die with no bottles of wine in your cellar. To drink your last bottle of wine and go to sleep that night and not wake up.”

“Hey, Bubu, a bottle of good French wine...Sip it slowly, do you most good. You'll sleep. Be happy. And if you want to come downstairs, dance and sing, talk, ok. Do what you want. Here's the wine.”