Some things are just like riding a bicycle; you jump on, pedal, and hope you don’t fall.

I think all artists struggle to represent the geometryof life in their own way, just like writers deal witharchetypes. There are only so many stories that you cantell, but an infinite number of storytellers.

I don’t care what Einstein said about God not playing dice; If he exists, he’s addicted to craps.

Out in the field, any connection with home just makes you weaker. It reminds you that you were once civilized, soft; and that can get you killed faster than a bullet through the head.