"Must one go through the five official stages? What are those five stages again: "anger, denial, bargaining, depression, and acceptance." Well, back up: here comes my acceptance speech. "I am now, and I have always been a flaming faggot, responsible for style in its every manifestation. I have my own five steps: flippancy, sentimentality, sarcasm, camp, and smut. They've got me through life, and deity dammit, they'll get me through death!"

“God, think of the great men that have nibbled on me, and now I'm nothing but a snack for a virus - something that can't even decide if it's a plant or an animal.”

“When I was just a little girl in East Bay, California, I noticed that East Bay was pig Latin for “beast.” But I knew I had found my niche when I realized that Alice Faye was pig Latin for "phallus.”

“It's my party and I'll die if I want to!”

“Don't bother answering back. Anything said to me at this point might as well be written on a decomposing squash. The brain goes first, you know -- except the portions dedicated to pain, which are apparently immune.”

“I want to give all away before some fool plays disco at my funeral, and then the record gets stuck, and nobody can tell, and the service goes on forever!”

“I tried to make up by offering to be a subject for any cute tricks that science might want to try. And said, "Mr. Wood, we cannot use you as an experimental animal," and I tod him, "Doc, I’m an effeminate queer, I’ve never been used as anything else!”