My Point... And I Do Have One

If you want to test cosmetics, why do it on some poor animal who hasn't done anything? They should use prisoners who have been convicted of murder or rape instead. So, rather than seeing if perfume irritates a bunny rabbit's eyes, they should throw it in Charles Manson's eyes and ask him if it hurts.

Have you ever heard somebody sing some lyrics that you've never sung before, and you realize you've never sung the right words in that song? You hear them and all of a sudden you say to yourself, 'Life in the Fast Lane?' That's what they're saying right there? You think, 'why have I been singing 'wipe in the vaseline?' how many people have heard me sing 'wipe in the vaseline?' I am an idiot.

And now I've got to explain the smell that was in there before I went in there. Does that ever happen to you? It's not your fault. You've held your breath, you just wanna get out, and now you open the door and you have to explain, 'Oh! Listen, there's an odor in there and I didn't do it. It's bad.

I still get scared at night. Every tiny creak, every little noise, I open my eyes real wide and listen with them. Have you noticed that? When it’s dark and you can’t see a thing, you open your eyes really wide and glance back and force, like your eyes become your ears?

The only way a no-legged leopard could hurt you is if it fell out of a tree onto your head.

That's what life is all about. There's a lot of crying. So you'd better cry now and get used to it.

Don't hold onto things, it will only bring you pain.

Well, crying’s good. It prepares you for life. The more often I see children crying, the more often I think, “That’s gonna be a healthy adult.” That’s what life is all about. There’s a lot of crying involved. So you’d better cry now and get used to it.

I was born, bred, and lightly sautéed in and around New Orleans,

Sometimes my lack of memory (or, to put a positive spin on it, my surplus of forgetfulness) worries me, especially since it’s not limited to my early childhood.

Just the mother, father, and two little baby deer lit by the reddish glow of the setting sun. It was so beautiful, so perfect, so wonderful, and I thought, “Oh, I wish I had a gun.” I could’ve just  … BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG! I could have shot ’em, gutted em, skinned em, then sprinkled em on my cereal.