I have always refused to do something that has offended me. I have been offered potential roles that are totally vulgar.

I became very critical of zoos and circuses and keeping animals in captivity. I wish it was against the law.

I got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell.

I'm better off not socializing. I make a better impression if I'm not around.

At its best, life is completely unpredictable.

There's something dangerous about what's funny. Jarring and disconcerting. There is a connection between funny and scary.

No, improvising is wonderful. But, the thing is that you cannot improvise unless you know exactly what you're doing.

I try not to worry about things I can't do anything about.

We have no way of knowing what lays ahead for us in the future. All we can do is use the information at hand to make the best decision possible.

I play so many villains and strange, troubled people. I don't have that kind of life. I live in the country. I've been married nearly 50 years. I have a cat.

My father was a lesson. He had his own bakery, and it was closed one day a week, but he would go anyway. He did it because he really loved his bakery. It wasn't a job.

As human beings, how do we choose to react in that instant when someone walks toward us, smiles, and begins to speak?

I'm not a fan of anybody music who I feel like a sucka. I don't listen to you. They play you in the club, you can have the #1 jam, but if I know your character, how can I listen to your music?

There are times when a sports figure doesn't deserve sympathy.

It is in the nature of cats to do a certain amount of unescorted roaming.

I think you always feel like you're about a hair's breadth away from being a bad actor anyway... It's not too hard to let the rope go slack, so to speak.

Losing an arm is kinda lame at one point, but at the same time, so much good has come out of it.

I didn't rebel as a child. I missed that angry teenager thing.

My grandfather was a giant of a man ... When he walked, the earth shook. When he laughed, the birds fell out of the trees. His hair caught fire from the sun. His eyes were patches of sky.

I feel most at home when I am writing a poem—because in that instant, I am everywhere.

So what if they were in Tartarus? So what if they stood a slim chance of surviving? He was so glad that they were together, he had the ridiculous urge to smile.