I carry a bullet in my breast pocket. Once, a crazy evangelist threw a bible at me, which would have gone through my heart if it wasn't for the bullet.
The wicked at heart probably know something.
The heart wants what it wants. There's no logic to these things. You meet someone and you fall in love and that's that.
I don't want to achieve immortality through my work; I want to achieve immortality through not dying. I don't want to live on in the hearts of my countrymen; I want to live on in my apartment.
The heart is a very, very resilient little muscle. It really is.
Retirement is a very subjective thing. There are guys I know who retire and they're very happy and they never miss work at all. I can't see myself retiring and fondling a dog every day. I like to get up and work and go out. I have too much energy or too much nervous anxiety or something. So I don't see myself retiring. Maybe I will suddenly get a stroke or a heart attack and I will be forced to retire, but if my health holds out I don't expect to retire.
Curiosity, that's what kills us. Not muggers or all that bullshit about the ozone layer. It's our own hearts and minds.
My heart says one thing. My head says another. Very hard to get your heart and head together in life.
My parents were very Old World. They come from Brooklyn, which is the heart of the Old World. Their values in life are God and carpeting.
Rather than live on in the hearts and minds of my fellow man, I would rather live on in my apartment.
Drama, it would be as if you wrote some poetry. You'd run the risk of being embarrassed if people read it, because you're pouring your heart out and you're not mitigating it with any humor or anything.
