A Quote by Steven Wright

My aunt gave me a walkie-talkie for my birthday. She says if I'm good, she'll give me the other one next year. — © Steven Wright
My aunt gave me a walkie-talkie for my birthday. She says if I'm good, she'll give me the other one next year.
For my birthday that year Anne gave me an inflatable atlas globe, along with a birthday card in which she wrote: I give you the world. Have fun blowing it up.
The next time she comes back, no matter what she says, listen to her well. If she cries, give her a handkerchief and wait until she's done crying. If she curses me, curse with her. And if by any chance she asks about me, tell her that I'm sorry.
There is a trend in child-rearing that I find abhorrent: "Whatever the kids want to do is fine." For me, the classic example of this is when someone has a visitor and says, "Go kiss Aunt Gertrude," and Aunt Gertrude says, "She doesn't have to kiss me if she doesn't want to." Well, I think that's wrong.
Now give me a kiss, say you love me and off you go." "Sure, Aunt Lu," I said, and I gave her the kiss she wanted. Then I ran out and caught my bus. I didn't say I loved her. I guess I did. But asking someone to say they love you--and she always asked--is like buying yourself a birthday present. It's more than likely exactly what you want. But it must make you feel awfully sad to get it.
I can't walk five steps without someone on a walkie talkie going, 'She's wandering over there.' I'm pretty stuck, but hey, it's been great.
[Amy Sedaris] is awesome to work with. She's an amazing person. She makes her own line of catnip toys, and she gave me a bunch for my cat. It meant the world to me. She also got me stuff for my daughter, but I was more enamored with what she gave me for my cat.
When we were arguing on my twenty-fourth birthday, she left the kitchen, came back with a pistol, and fired it at me five times from right across the table. But she missed. It wasn't my life she was after. It was more. She wanted to eat my heart and be lost in the desert with what she'd done, she wanted to fall on her knees and give birth from it, she wanted to hurt me as only a child can be hurt by its mother.
My wife, she is so good. She was a famous singer - had a show in Carnegie Hall, did a big city tour for RCA. Then she made the mistake of marrying me. The next year, another tour, but the third year, she had Mario and said, 'Either I'm a mother or a singer.'
Madonna is interesting. She changed music. She definitely did. She gave me an opportunity that no one else would give me, so I am very grateful to her.
My mother says to me, when I'm making a new movie, she says, "Oh, is Steve Buscemi in it?" I'd say, "Yeah." And she, "Oh, then it's going to be a good one." I swear to God, she says that every time. And when I say Steve's not in it, she says, "Oh."
In her new book, Sarah Palin says she once gave up chocolate for an entire year just to prove she could do it. Still think she's not qualified to be President?
No, she knows you're here. She can see through the camouflage. But I think she's hiding something from me, and I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Never mind. Just listen. Once she drinks the tea, she will try ot surprise me with something. She is waiting for the contrast to be fully in effect before she says anything. I knew I never should have let you watch The Wizard of Oz.
You sure about this?" I asked Thalia. She turned to me. "Amaltheia leads me to good things. The last time she appeared, she led me to you." The compliment warmed me like a cup of hot chocolate. I'm a sucker that way. Thalia can flash those blue eyes, give me one kind word, and she can get me to do pretty much whatever.
The other day my twelve-year-old says to me, I don't feel like I'm with you right now. You're in the car with me, you're checking your e-mail, you're not listening to me, I don't feel like I'm with you. And I say, You know what? That was your mother's gripe, too. And she was right. And you're also correct. When you cop to something, you get to the next level. In this case, the next level is: I just learned something from my twelve-year-old.
Normal people, fear the day their parents die. Screwed up people, fear the day their parents kill. My mum killed a guy, at my wedding. So I can pretty much check that off. But, she's my mum. And no matter what she did I just can't walk away from her. She gave me birth. She gave me love. She gave me the ability to make a cigarette fire look like it was started by the hot water heater.
He says when your grandmother died your mother cried solidly for a week, solidly. She was crying with relief he says, it was like as if a door had been unlocked and she'd been let outside, she said to me I'm safe now. He waits, and he says this kid, when it's born, you mustn't ever let it think it's anything other than a gift and a blessing, do you hear me?
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