More and more, there are things in my life that I find hard to say. Like, 'David Bowie and Lorde were at my birthday party.' She's a phenomenal spirit.

Art is good for my soul precisely because it reminds me that we have souls in the first place.

I never quite understand the way society decides who is beautiful and who is not. But an open face and a capacity for kindness always feel like reliable signifiers to me.

Most of us live our whole lives without having an adventure to call our own.

It's a real comfort zone for me to feel alien.

How do we identify ourselves, and how do we settle into other people's expectations for our identity?

I would rather be handsome for an hour than pretty for a week.

This self-obsession is a waste of living. It could be spent on surviving things, appreciating nature, nurturing kindness and friendship, and dancing.

I'm really interested in the idea of long, long life and transformation and immortality.

I'm from the same planet as David Bowie.

I'm interested in that whole question of where we wear our identity and how can we see it.

As you discover what strength you can draw from your community in this world from which it stands apart, look outward as well as inward. Build bridges instead of walls.

I would have to talk for a year to repeat a single on of my works with words.

There is no creation without tradition; the 'new' is an inflection on a preceding form; novelty is always a variation on the past.

The oldest form of theater is the dinner table.

Travelers are the greatest ambassadors of tolerance.

'Tis a good rule in every journey to provide some piece of liberal study to rescue the hours which bad weather, bad company, and taverns steal from the best economist.

When I started my last business, I didn't receive a paycheck for 13 months. The average person can't handle that pressure.

When you come to the boundaries of what you know, it is time to make some mistakes.

Love doesn't suit the lazy; sometimes it requires strong, precise actions.

Most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath.