“I don’t use coarse humor, but occasionally I’ll joke about intercourse—between midget siblings.”

“The book “Little Women,” what, is that about midgets? I freaking love midgets.”

“Sometimes I write about the forest, sometimes I write about the trees, and occasionally I’ll write about the lumberjack. Actually, the lumberjack is more the editing part, figuring what needs to be cut.”

“Come, midget, and use my pillow as a sleeping bag.”

“I was joking about my clones to my family when my uncle Herman said, “Don’t do that. Don’t make fun of yourself and others at the same time.” And he’s right. It is confusing. Am I mocking myself, or joking at the expense of someone else?”

“I only need to write about 3,000 one-liners a day to produce a million jokes a year. Simple. I’ll just get started after I take a nap.”

“I’ll stab you with a pointy thingy. Not a sword, a knife, or even a mountaintop. No, I’ll use my index finger—and just to make a point about violence.”