“Make yourself interesting to history. Master some aspect of life, and then find a different area and do something crazy. Become a painter, then round up a herd of cattle and slaughter them with your bare hands. Then collect their blood and paint a mural memorializing their glorious death.”

“I am a single drop of blood trying to mix in with billions of red paint splatters in this Pollack painting called life. I think the cops are trying to frame me.”

“I carry all of my childhood memories in my mind. But maybe that’s not the best place for them. Well, you’ve got some extra space in your closet. Do you think I could store them there?”

“I want to do something different, and make a difference in people’s lives. If everyone jumps off a bridge, I’ll be the guy who built that bridge.”

“I collect sounds. I store most of them in my ears, but some, like the sneeze, I store in my nose. If you wear a rain slicker and some rubber gloves, I’ll show you my collection sometime.”

“You may be dying, but I’m going to have a picnic and enjoy this glorious day. I won’t let your impending death spoil my afternoon.”

“My hand inside a glove is like a painting in a frame, and should be insured as such. The things my hand makes have immense value, so how much more valuable is the thing that makes the things?”