I like soap opera acting. If it's done really well, there's nothing better. It's old school. It's like what those melodramas in the '30s and '40s were like

Black eyeliner says 'You've been through stuff, you know things'.

I watch soap operas. I bake brownies. Normalcy is coursing through my veins.

I would like a nice, powerful, mind-altering substance. Preferably one that will make my unborn children grow gills.

But it's fun to be something, have that, and you don't have to be real. It's like, comedians. They go on and they're doing all these jokes. I would be like that if I were more awake

An actor's career relies on a lot of luck. Being in the right place at the right time.

In the '90s, indie movies could get financing, because financers gave money straight to directors... Now it's a different system. Indie movies got co-opted by the studio system.

I haven't seen a bear in person. I've seen deer. I have lots of woodchucks on my property. And bluebirds. Foxes.

My dad recently reminded me that my grandfather's cousin was Lefty Frizzell.

You're talking to someone, to a reader, and you get to express in the way you want to. And you get to play with it. It's kind of like acting, but it's on paper.

I don't have a publisher yet, so I'm not in the process of that next stage and I don't know what that's going to look like. So I feel like I finished stage one [with my book].

One of the happiest moments of life is when you learn to love without expecting any return.

The Lord is my Saviour.

My slurred speech isn’t from one or nine drinks too many, it’s from my father.

While the United States has been busy creating lawyers, we have been busier creating engineers.

Slowly my body grows a single sound, slowly I become a bell, an oval, disembodied vowel, I grow, an owl, an aureole, white fire poesia "Metamorfosi, I. Luna

I always wanted to sing, as a child.

Fame usually comes to those who are thinking about something else - very rarely to those who say to themselves, 'Go to, now, let us be a celebrated individual!'.

Were it not for gravity one man might hurl another by a puff of his breath into the depths of space, beyond recall for all eternity.

Alternatives, and particularly desirable alternatives, grow only on imaginary trees.

When you were called, did you answer or did you not? Perhaps softly and in a whisper?