Some Guy Hit My Fender, And I

My Ex-wife Was A Philosophy Major At Nyu. Yeah, She And I Used To Have Deep Philosophical Discussions Where She Would Prove That I Didn't Exist.

During The Course Of The Year A Number Of Ideas Just Come Up Automatically. I Could Be Walking Down The Street. Or Shaving. An Idea Will Hit Me And I'll Write It Down. Then, When I'm Ready To Write, I Check My Little Matchbooks And Napkins And Find That It Is Good Or It's Pretty Terrible. There Are Other Times When I Don't Have Any Ideas And I'll Go Into A Room And Close The Door And I Sit And Sweat It Out For A Day Or A Month And Eventually I Come Up With [something].

90 Per Cent Of Success Is Turning Up.

I Wouldn't Necessarily Want To Be A Big Muscular Guy. It's Nice To Be Gorgeous Whether You're Male Or Female Assuming You Don't Lose Whatever Else You Have.

I Don't Get Depressed; I Grow A Tumor Instead.