I'm not tempted to write a song about George W. Bush. I couldn't figure out what sort of song I would write. That's the problem: I don't want to satirise George Bush and his puppeteers, I want to vaporise them.
[To the mother of two unruly children in a restaurant after the woman said she really didn't know what to do with her children:] Have you tried infanticide?
I think when you take off that jacket and they see that ‘I LOVE GRANDMA’ T-shirt, they’re going to rip your heart out.
An intemperate patient makes a harsh doctor.
Experience proves that none is so cruel as the disillusioned sentimentalist.
I mean I have had a very combative relationship with critics because I'm very impatient with people that don't give my work the respect I feel it deserves.
Strike the dog dead, it's but a critic!
I’m as forgiving as the wall you hit at two hundred kilometers an hour.
