“Any combination of a 250-pound Mexican and LSD-25 is a potentially terminal menace for anything it can reach”

“Journalism is "a low trade and a habit worse than heroin, a strange seedy world of misfits and drunkards and failures.”

“There was madness in any direction, at any hour. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning.”

“I couldn't imagine, and I don't say this with any pride, but I really couldn't imagine writing without a desperate deadline.”

“Nixon was so crooked that he needed servants to help him screw his pants on every morning.”

“Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you!”

“Stay, my lord, And let your reason with your choler question What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills Requires slow pace at first: anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England Can advise me like you: be to yourself As you would to your friend.”

“Thou whoreson zed! Thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. *all cheer for Shakespearean insults*”