People hate people who are good at things. People hate people who are cute.

You know it's hard for me to, like, act the way I've been acting. And, like, being, like, nice to everyone. And I think I deserve to be acknowledged for that.

If my face was covered, I would be useless.

I don't know what 15-year-old doesn't have a desire to separate themselves from their parents and prove their independence.

Let the boy win his spurs.

Be happy and free. Be able to see psychically and understand what is going on in the universe, what your luminosity is about, and how to reorder your luminous fibers.

Profound, bottomless self-doubt - it has no value - what's the point? In a way, it takes up as much time as anything else.

All around the world, people want to be loved.

I'm happiest when I'm just hanging out with my friends... it really doesn't matter what we do.

In order to be loved, we have to love, which means we have to understand.

To every man in the world there is one person of whom he knows little: whom he would never recognize if he met him walking down the street, whose motives are a mystery to him. That is himself.

This endured absence is nothing more or less than forgetfulness. I am, intermittently, unfaithful. This is the condition of my survival.

If voting made any difference, it would be illegal.