Kinky Friedman always had a way with words—something we at Texas Monthly spotted early on. Beyond his stint as a columnist for the magazine from 2001 to 2005, he also moonlighted as a satirist, novelist, songwriter, tequila pitchman, and gubernatorial candidate. The multihyphenate died on June 27, at the age of 79. We tried our damnedest to tell his story, but Friedman never needed any help explaining himself. We scrounged through the archives to find the best of Friedman’s many, many quotables. Here are just a few of the Jewish Cowboy’s colorful anecdotes and one-in-a-million life philosophies, in his own words.

Kinky on his friendship with Willie Nelson: “Okay, well, I signed copies of Steppin’ on a Rainbow and Kinky Friedman’s Guide to Texas Etiquette, which is also available in bookstores. Of course, anyone who can publish two books at the same time must have an empty life. So I signed them for Willie, and in one of them I wrote, ‘From your third favorite Jew, Kinky Friedman.’ So we were talking about it, and I said, ‘That really is true, isn’t it.’ And he said yes. I pointed out that his first favorite Jew was Mark Rothbaum, his manager, and the second is Mickey Raphael, his harmonica player. I said that I was probably his third favorite, and he said that that was about right. And then he looked right into my eyes and said, ‘You’ll always be number three in my heart.’ ” [Texas Monthly]

Kinky in 2004 on a possible run for governor: “If I’m elected, the first thing I’ll do is demand a recount.” [Los Angeles Times]

Kinky on his campaign: “This is a circus with a purpose.” [Texas Monthly]

Kinky on his 2006 gubernatorial campaign: “Unless you’ve been living in a double-wide deer blind, you know I’m running for governor in 2006. Well, I’m a rather indecisive person, so I’m not entirely sure I’m running yet. I have to weigh the impact the race may have on my family. You may be thinking, ‘The Kinkster doesn’t have a family.’ But that’s not quite right, folks: Texas is my family. And I intend to give Texas a governor who knows how to ride, shoot straight, and tell the truth, a governor as independent-thinking and as colorful as the state itself.” [Texas Monthly]

Kinky on running Texas: “How hard can it be?” [Texas Monthly]

Kinky on how he would run the state: “So what kind of governor would I be? When I was in Washington, George W. asked me what my platform was. I didn’t really have an answer at the time, but I’ve had a chance to think it over. Next time I see him, this is what I’ll say: ‘My platform, Mr. President, is that I’m not a politician. My platform is that I’m not a bureaucrat. My platform is that I’m a writer of fiction who speaks the truth. My platform is to fight the wussification of this great state, to rise and shine and bring back the glory of Texas. My platform is, no hill for a climber. My platform is to remember that when they went out searching for Sam Houston to try to persuade him to be the governor—and he was the greatest governor this state has ever had—rumor has it that they found him drunk.’” [Texas Monthly]

Kinky, on second thought: “Maybe I don’t really want a platform. They might try to put a trapdoor in it.” [Texas Monthly]

Kinky on meeting President Bill Clinton: “Our friendship culminated in January 1997, when the president invited my father and me to the White House. The event was a gala dinner for more than two hundred people, several of whom commented rather negatively about my wearing a black cowboy hat in the White House, but I didn’t let it bother me. At first I couldn’t find my name at a table setting, but when I did, I was surprised to discover that the card next to mine read ‘The President.’ Once I sat down, people stopped bitching about the cowboy hat. They said, ‘Who is that interesting man from Texas sitting next to the president?’ ” [Texas Monthly]

Kinky on adulthood: “I have a fun kind of life with very little responsibilities. I could hang around with Willie, and Cheech and Chong without running for office.” [Texas Tribune]

Kinky on his 2004 diagnosis of melanoma (later cured): “I don’t want to die before the next Yanni concert.” [Texas Monthly]

Kinky on same-sex marriage: “They have the right to be just as miserable as the rest of us!” [Texas Monthly]

Kinky on the Texas Lege: “How can you look at the Texas Legislature and still believe in intelligent design?” [Midland Reporter-Telegram]

Kinky on turning sixty: “None of us are getting younger or smarter. About all we can hope for is lucky. But at least we’re old enough to realize and young enough to know that when the Lord closes the door, he opens a little window. Old age is definitely not for sissies, but those of us who are chronologically challenged can take comfort in the words of my favorite Irish toast: ‘May the best of the past be the worst of the future.’ ” [Texas Monthly]

Kinky on one-liners: “There were three kings of the one-liner: Oscar Wilde, Henny Youngman, and Kinky Friedman. Think about it. When Jesus Christ was up there on the cross, he delivered one line: ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’ And Travis at the Alamo drew one line in the sand that the men who wanted to stay and fight could cross. That one line stood for freedom. And a cowboy, when he ropes a steer, he’s got one line that he ties to his saddle horn, and that runs to the steer. If that one line is true and strong, it can save a soul.” [Texas Monthly]

Kinky on Texas vernacular: “Y’all is singular. All y’all is plural. All y’all’s is plural possessive.” [In Kinky Friedman’s Guide to Texas Etiquette: Or How to Get to Heaven or Hell Without Going Through Dallas–Fort Worth]

Kinky on the afterlife: “They say when you die and go to heaven all the dogs and cats you’ve ever had in your life come running to meet you.” [In Elvis, Jesus & Coca-Cola]

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