Stars, everywhere. So many stars that I could not for the life me understand how the sky could contain them all yet be so black.

People aren't rational. We're not thinking machines, we're - we're feeling machines that happen to think.

There's no such things as survival of the fittest. Survival of the most adequate, maybe. It doesn't matter whether a solution's optimal. All that matters is whether it beats the alternative.

The most altruistic and sustainable philosophies fail before the brute brain stem imperative of self-interest.

But when the flash flood crosses your path, when the lion leaps at you from the grasses, advanced self-awareness is an unaffordable indulgence. The brain stem does its best.

Science is so powerful that it drags us kicking and screaming towards the truth despite our best efforts to avoid it.

This is how you communicate with a fellow intelligence: You hurt it, you keep on hurting it, until you can distinguish the speech from the screams.

I am the bridge between the bleeding edge and the dead center. I stand between the Wizard of Oz and the man behind the curtain. I am the curtain.

What's the difference between being dead, and just not knowing you're alive?

Radar is too long in the tooth for fine detail.

But pattern-matching doesn't equal comprehension.

We all have forests on our minds. Forests unexplored, unending. Each one of us gets lost in the forest, every night, alone.

Itis our ability to have an insight into people thatgives us the power to predict the future.

But stories are worlds. New worlds for us to visit. In stories, we live forever.

There's something about that blind trust between Timbaland and me - two people that have almost nothing in common except for a love of music - that is really rejuvenating.

What I learned from Lennon was something that did stay with me my whole career, which is to be very straightforward. I actually love talking about taking pictures, and I think that helps everyone.

Silence means they [the audience] are paying attention. Even if I drop bombs and they're dead quiet, it's still okay. If they start talking, that's when you've lost them.

"I fear your kind and open communication, which has rendered me more painfully conscious of my own defects, has not improved me," sighed Kate.

I mean, being shot in slow motion doing cocaine by Martin Scorsese is, like, maybe every actor's dream. Nothing will compare to it. Except maybe having kids.

No matter how close thought sticks to the actual, it follows its own rules.

She wanted me to betray you guys, and I was like, 'Pfft, right, I'm gonna listen to a face in the potty sludge'.