My dad was a big believer in treating people well, oftentimes even when he himself wasn't well.

I've known attractive airheads, and I've known ugly idiots.

We're teaching our kids that attributes as vague and relatively meaningless as a toothy smile or a fine head of hair make a fine statement about a person.

We're all going to die. While I'm still here, I want to make a difference.

We're a nation of liars. But I mean that in the kindest sense.

We forget the little things, so it's no wonder some of us screw up the big things.

There's nothing wrong or evil about having a bad day. There's everything wrong with making others have to have it... with you.

The tobacco companies knew quite early on the addictive nature of their product.

The rich pay more in total taxes now than ever before - ever. It's true. Just like it's true that when the rich are convinced they're going to be taxed more, they spend less. And when the top few percenters don't spend, there goes all your spending, because they account for half of all retail spending.

The good thing about having this illness is that it allows me to be a little bit crazy.

Why the hell do we make such a big deal out of things that shouldn't be a big deal?

It's not as if I can just pop on my show and be rude if I've had a hard day.

The other day at a drive-through, I reminded the teenage girl serving me that she forgot my drinks. She looked at me, hissed, rolled her eyes, and then took her sweet time getting me the sodas.

If Edwards gained 60 pounds and lost all his hair, he'd look like Dick Cheney!

I'm the reason why I'm overweight. No one made me do it. I did it.