To Listen To Your Own Silence Is

I’ve Thought For The Last Decade Or So, The Only Actual Place Raw Truth Was Seeping Through In Newspapers Was On The Comics Pages. They Were Able To Pull Off Intelligent Social Comment, Pure Truths Not Found Elsewhere In The News Pages, And Had The Ability To Make It All Funny, Entertaining, And Pertinent.

I Never Minded Flying Cheap. I Always Said To Myself, 'taking This Flight Saves Enough Money To Rescue Four Dogs, Or Six Cats, Or Will Let Me Make A Difference To The One Woman Saving Chimps In Cameroon.'

My Family Was Totally Non-religious. There Was No Question We Were Jewish, But We Were Not Observant.

I Just Get The Feeling That If Jesse Helms Was In Charge Of Art In America, You'd Go Into A Museum And See Nothing But Prints Of Dogs Playing Cards.

When I Played The Sahara Hotel In Las Vegas On New Year's Eve, I Got To Bring Wiley, My 85-pound Black Lab. He's Responsible For My Favorite New Year's Memory Of All: At The End Of The Show, He Ran Onstage And Then Out Across All The Tables In The Showroom, Sending Champagne Glasses And Gamblers Flying.