The older you get, the more yourself you can be and the less worried you are about what other people think.

When you finally accept that it's OK not to have answers and it's OK not to be perfect, you realize that feeling confused is a normal part of what it is to be a human being.

You go through spells where you feel that maybe you're too sensitive for this world. I certainly felt that.

Crazy isn't being broken, or swallowing a dark secret. It's you or me, amplified.

I was very depressed after breaking off my engagement with Johnny ten years ago. I was embarrassingly dramatic at the time, but you have to remember I was only 19 years old.

There was a time when I was 19 when I really, really, really thought I was going crazy. I was exhausted and going through a terrible depression.

I've learned that it's OK to be flawed, that life can be messy, that some days you glide and some days you fall, but most important, that there are no secret answers out there.

You have good days and bad days, and depression's something that, you know, is always with you.

You can't pay enough money to... cure that feeling of being broken and confused.

I am not a person who can really sit around and think about regrets because with every bad experience that you have, there is weirdly something good that comes from it.

I was inspired by lots of people, certainly in acting and in writing and stuff, but I never wanted to be somebody else.

All women may not be beautiful but every woman can look beautiful.

I cared not a whit whether Time were “a form of thought, ” or an aspect of reality, or (this was later) compoundable with Space. What I wanted to know was: How it got mixed?

Truth is not a virtue, but a passion. It is never charitable.

The real end of prayer is not so much to get this or that single desire granted, as to put human life into full and joyful conformity with the will of God.

Sometimes I wonder how you can stand being just a dog..." "You play with the cards you're dealt... Whatever that means.

Why are there not positive mysteries? It's always who stole the diamond, or who killed the butler? How about... who made cookies, somebody cleaned my room.

The believed gospel saves; but it is the believed promise that assures us of this salvation.

I always said that what I do is street knowledge, you let the street know what the politicians of today are doing, and if the politicians are listening, let them know what the streets think.

Let soldiers on manoeuvres plant trees. Give police and criminals a shovel and a thousand seedlings.

A vampire may play with his food, but he never sets it free.