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

People have incredible nerve to do terrible things, but never actually admit to them.

Any self-defense class worth its salt will tell you thatyou don’t pull out a weapon unless you intend to use it.The same should apply to ballsy remarks.

My father once told me that it’s not enough for a man to be lucky; that a guy has to know when that streak is on for him.

Truth is irrelevant; what matters is what people believe.

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.