I love English girls! I adore all their different accents. Who knows, I could find a British girlfriend on my travels!

When you're doing fantasy, you can get so caught up in the magic of it that you lose the humanity.

How someone treats a waiter or doorman can tell you so much about a person.

I was home schooled starting in seventh grade.

When you're at dinner with somebody and they are on their phone. I think there's that lost art of conversation and so I just always try to keep my phone far away from me when I'm with people.

I went through a period when I was rebellious and a mess of a person.

When I was a kid and I would play pretend, I would end up with blood everywhere and I would cut my feet up. I love the feeling of it being real.

My grandpa was a cowboy. He roped cattle out in Texas and Arizona. Growing up, I'd see him maybe once a year and he'd always get me on a horse at some point. But each time I'd have to learn again.

There is hardly anything more confusing than a really strong-willed woman and when you are surrounded by two of them in the midst of trying to save the world, it really adds to some drama!

When you're just writing, you can do anything with it. But with TV, you've gotta work within certain budget constraints, so you've got to pick and choose your battles.

I've always been really into action movies. Since I was little, that was my favorite type of film.

Speaking is what most people work on. They forget the thinking and the breathing and instead try to occupy space with sound.

I valued my independence from an early age and was always something of a individualist … Well, a show-off anyway.

I can’t remember how many times I advised students to stop writing the sunny hours and write from where it hurts: No one wants to read polite. It puts them to sleep.

The competitive nature of hip-hop culture has always had battling involved with it. So you battle with the other artist but not necessarily in business and everywhere else.

Horses are far worse than men for treachery.

Beware the horns of a bull, the heels of the horse, and the smile of an Englishman.

In mine, they were just trying to steal a briefcase of cocaine.* That's it. Some flour that I got out of my mom's cupboard.

It seems that every time I stick my neck out, I get my foot into something else.

What is joy? It is a bird That we all want to catch. It is the same bird That we all love to see flying.

The nearer I approach the end, the plainer I hear around me the immortal symphonies of the worlds which invite me. It is marvelous, yet simple.