The Job Of The Writer Is To

What Do You Think You Are, For Chrissake, Crazy Or Somethin'? Well You're Not! You're Not! You're No Crazier Than The Average Asshole Out Walkin' Around On The Streets And That's It.

I Sometimes Have These Spells Of Compulsive Truth. But As Lady Macbeth Would Say, "the Fit Is Momentary."

No, My Friend. We Are Lunatics From The Hospital Up The Highway, Psycho-ceramics, The Cracked Pots Of Mankind. Would You Like Me To Decipher A Rorschach For You?

Truth Doesn't Run On Time Like A Commuter Train.

He Knows That There's No Better Way In The World To Aggravate Somebody Who's Trying To Make It Hard For You Than By Acting Like You're Not Bothered.