I can't do anything to death, doctor's orders.

It's funny. Maria Elena and I, we are meant for each other and not meant for each other, it's a contradiction.

I will not eat oysters. I want my food dead. Not sick. Not wounded. Dead.

In Beverly Hills... they don't throw their garbage away. They make it into television shows.

True, science has conquered many diseases, broken the genetic code, and even placed human beings on the moon, and yet when a man of eighty is left in a room with two eighteen-year-old cocktail waitresses nothing happens.

Is Knowledge knowable? If not, how do we know?

Sex alleviates tension. Love causes it.