If you indulge in long periods, you must be sure to have a snapper at the end.
Uh, I just had an operation last March which was rather serious and I'm recuperating now. I'm on a very bland diet. But, uh, I'm lucky, I was just lucky, that's all.
I wonder how anybody can think his personality changes with his success. I've had quite a bit of success but I feel that I'm just the same person as I always was.
No matter how thin you slice it it's still baloney.
Many of the younger generation know my name in a vague way and connect it with grotesque inventions, but don't believe that I ever existed as a person. They think I am a nonperson, just a name that signifies a tangled web of pipes or wires or strings that suggest machinery. My name to them is like a spiral staircase, veal cutlets, barber's itch—terms that give you an immediate picture of what they mean.
I, I don't think anybody's continually happy, uh, except idiots, you know. You know, you have to have little moments of depression.
And, uh, I've got about six thousand cartoons up there, also books and papers.
I have to force a smile off my face as I sit limply in my seat. . . Then, just as I'm congratulating myself for such a stellar plan.
Inside myself is a place where I live all alone and that is where I renew my springs that never dry up.
An eye for an eye. . . . we are all blind
If Jesus Christ is not true God, how could he help us? If he is not true man, how could he help us?