“In my prison cell i sitWith my britches full of $hitand my balls are bouncing gently on the floorand i see the bloody snagwhen she bit me in the bagoh, i'll never f--- a polack any more”

“The museums in children’s minds, I think, automatically empty themselves in times of utmost horror—to protect the children from eternal grief.For my own part, though: It would have been catastrophe if I had forgotten my sister at once. I had never told her so, but she was the person I had always written for. She was the secret of whatever artistic unity I had ever achieved. She was the secret of my technique. Any creation which has any wholeness and harmoniousness, I suspect, was made by an artist or inventor with an audience of one in mind.Yes, and she was nice enough, or Nature was nice enough, to allow me to feel her presence for a number of years after she died—to let me go on writing for her. But then she began to fade away, perhaps because she had more important business elsewhere.”

“The waitress brought me another drink. She wanted to light my hurricane lamp again. I wouldn't let her."Can you see anything in the dark, with your sunglasses on?" she asked me."The big show is inside my head," I said.”

“Never have I risked my life, or even my comfort, in the service of mankind. Shame on me.”

“Any city in any country, including my own hometown, was to me just another place where I might live or might not live.”

“Music is, to me, proof of the existence of God. It is so extraordinarily full of magic, and in tough times of my life I can listen to music and it makes such a difference.”

“I wish you'd help me look into a more interesting problem - namely, my sanity.”