I’d hang a walrus on my wall, and I’d name him Russ. But I’m not a hunter—I’m a lover and a fisherman. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, if you want to take off your pants and wash up.

I never got to call myself a door-to-door salesman, because, regrettably, I only ever went to one door. But one day I just might knock on another door, to be able to proudly say that I was once a door-to-door salesman.

My favorite unit of time is the hour, because I collect them and store as many as 10 new and unused ones each night to use after I’m dead. The best time to make love to me is right after I’ve fallen asleep.

...'Well, I think of you as a straight shooter, Sheriff, but one who can't stop lustin' after the goddamn ineffable.'"She said that, hunh?""Yup.""Shitfire, Sheriff, what'd you do?""Well, I shot her.

He had too much to think about. In the course of his long, useless marches he had sunk deeper and deeper into the tangle of his botched life as into a clump of brambles, and still he had found no meaning or consolation.

The American Dream has become a death sentence of drudgery, consumerism, and fatalism: a garage sale where the best of the human spirit is bartered away for comfort, obedience and trinkets. It's unequivocally absurd.

I think the two greatest inventions in the history of mankind are the remote control and the fingernail clipper. Now, if someone could just combine those two, I’d be very eager to clip my nails from across the room.

Boats should be shaped more like shoes. Better for dancing. The only thing I’m better at than dancing is making love, and grandmas all over Memphis say they haven’t seen moves like mine since after Elvis died.

I don’t have a tan because I only come out at night. The only sun I get is reflected off the moon. I make love like a vampire, only entirely different and without completely filling up movie theaters with spectators.

Her golden hair moved like a hundred moths, all trying to saturate themselves in sunlight, while his hair was spiked like cleats, and he wore a shoe for a hat. He said it helped him to headstands while looking up her dress.

If love were a color, it'd be orange. Not because that's a romantic color, but because it's the sweetest. If you want to know how I feel about you, I just made some juice out of it. Grab a glass—a tall one.

Colors and scents evoke strong emotions. Lavender, both the light purple and the smell, make me feel tranquil. But another color, canary urine, reminds me of public bathrooms, and all the fond memories of waiting for Father.

My fur coat doesn’t need to be dry cleaned, because it’s self-cleaning. It’s constantly licking its fur to keep itself clean. Beats walking through a car wash, like I used to do when I worked for Joe Namath.

No novelists any good except me. Sovietski -- yah! Nastikoff -- bah! I spit me of zem all. No novelists anywhere any good except me. P. G. Wodehouse and Tolstoi not bad. Not good, but not bad. No novelists any good except me.

I love you—but not now. I mean don’t bother me now, not that I don’t love you now. Also, now for me isn’t now for you, as my watch is five minutes fast, and that’s why I always seem so futuristic.