I hate Danny Kaye movies.

By the time I was in the fourth grade, I sounded exactly like my father on the phone.

I get a kick out of people saying I was funny.

It's not always easy to identify your own voice. It comes with time.

Anyone working in the media can tell you that there seems to be an always-ready-to-explode segment of the populace for whom offense is a fate worse than anything imaginable. You'd think offense is one of the most calamitous things that could happen to a human being; right up there with the loss of a limb, or just missing a parking space.

The sudden death at 51 of James Gandolfini is intolerable.

I'll be happy if I can just stay out of Nebraska.

While other kids were out playing and doing healthy things, I read an ancient judo book with a neck hold that was fatal to so many people, they finally dropped it from judo.

I don't feel old. I feel like a young man that has something wrong with him.

Do freshman philosophy classes nowadays debate updated versions of the age-old questions? Like, how could a merciful God allow AIDS, childhood cancers, tsunamis and Dick Cheney?

It was at a vividly bad time in Norman Mailer's life that I met him, and a sort of water-treading time in mine. He had stabbed his wife, and I was a copy boy at Time magazine.

Radio, which was a much better medium than television will ever be, was easy and pleasant to listen to. Your mind filled automatically with images.

Music bypasses the brain and goes straight to the heart. I wish my life had more of it.

I felt bad when George Bush was booed. But only briefly. My sympathy for that man has a half-life of about four seconds.

It's no fun being a specimen.

Every writer knows that unless you were born gifted with either supreme confidence or outsize ego, handing in your work holds, in some cases, admitted terror. If that's too strong, at least fairly high anxiety.

I'm the only talk show host, I think, if there's such a category in, what's called, the book of records, to have a guest die while we were taping the show, yeah.

There are online forms you can fill out to send to your lawmakers, demanding that nothing - nothing at all or in any way - be done about any guns whatever, anywhere.

You have to be on TV a surprisingly long time before you're stopped on the street. Then, when you are, you get a lot of, 'Hey, you're great! What's your name again?'

Statistically, I'd say comedy writers are perhaps the sanest category of show people. And why not? They make big money, and although it's not an easy trade - particularly when you're at your galley oar five days a week - it's easier on the nerves and the psyche than living with the brain-squeezing pressure and cares of being the Star.

Censorship feeds the dirty mind more than the four-letter word itself.

I feel like I've been watching Irwin Corey forever. I saw him in the 1950s, and I thought he was old then.

Show people tend to treat their finances like their dentistry. They assume the man handling it knows what he is doing.

The brain process that results in a joke materializing where no joke was before remains a mystery. I'm not aware of any scholarly, scientific or neurological studies on the subject.