If I were to pick the life of someone whom I professionally mimic in many ways, it would be Howard Hughes, surprisingly.
We were all hit with sticker shock: $87 billion is a huge number.
I grew up thinking Margaret Cho and Lucy Liu were my idols because that's it.
If government were a product, selling it would be illegal.
Actually, the first songs I learned were imitations of Johnny Mathis.
If I were immersed in constant melancholy, I would not be who I am.
The early 1960s, when I started my graduate studies at UC Berkeley, were a period of experimental supremacy and theoretical impotence.
Our pleasures were simple - they included survival.
England and France were rivals, not only on the continent, but in the West Indies, in India, and in Europe.
Mine were informal mentors. They were all in my working life.
My earliest experiences in meditation were in a context of intensive retreats.
Existence would be intolerable if we were never to dream.
A lot of '20s musicals were a hodgepodge of melodrama, mixed with operetta and romance, and then some sense of modernism and some sense of irreverence.
My family were from Jamaica.
James Dean and Dennis Hopper were members of the health club I went to.
Jimmy Stewart and Lucille Ball were so unique.
We would create thousands of jobs in Colorado if the Keystone Pipeline were to be built.
The Beatles, the Small Faces and the Kinks were great bands, but that was in the '60s.
Some of those early Kinks songs, we were barely in tune.
There were no Asian lads boxing when I started.