How fit he is to sway That can so well obey.

But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near.

Therefore the love which us doth bind, But fate so enviously debars, Is the conjunction of the mind, And opposition of the stars.

Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.

Had we but world enough, and time, this coyness, lady, were no crime.

Self-preservation, nature's first great law, all the creatures, except man, doth awe.

The world in all doth but two nations bear- The good, the bad; and these mixed everywhere.

Art indeed is long, but life is short.

The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace.

And all the way, to guide their chime, With falling oars they kept their time.

I have a garden of my own, But so with roses overgrown, And lilies, that you would it guess To be a little wilderness.

Home is where the backpack is

We look not at the things which are what you would call seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporal. But the things that are not seen are eternal.

Freedom is not given to us by anyone we have to cultivate it ourselves. It is a daily practice... No one can prevent you from being aware of each step you take or each breath in and breath out.

If you ride a horse, sit close and tight, if you ride a man, sit easy and light.

It's a living, breathing thing, acting.

If one lets fear or hate or anger take possession of the mind, they become self-forged chains.

Never would I allow my size to define me. Instead I would define it.

The key to every actor is deep, deep insecurity.

After Nashville sushi and a long debate on Bob Dylan, we went into Woodland Studios at 10 pm that night for a look around, and jammed for 5 hours solid.

What you do is proof of what you believe.