Everything that I write about is a kernel of something that probably happened to me or one of my writers that I've co-opted and made it seem like it's mine.
I'd always find the positive in someone.
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.
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.
Crazy isn't being broken, or swallowing a dark secret. It's you or me, amplified.
I was mid-sentence when the casting director said, "Listen, kid. You should not be an actress. You are not pretty enough. You should go back to wherever you came from and you should go to school. You don't have it. " She was very blunt - I honestly think that she thought she was doing me a favor.
Let none presume to measure the irregularities of Michael Angelo or Socrates by village scales.
Nowadays we are forced with so many things in life in society that all of the sudden we are no longer in tune with our soul, and if you can find a channel to that soul, its dark, and you've got to be able to look at it, with joy, because you're willing to look at it.
When you improvise on the spot, people are very reluctant to have soft moments or quiet moments or sad moments because they're trying to fill up the spaces. So they always go towards, "How come you're late?! You're supposed to have my shirt ready! You call this a dry cleaner?!" That's what happens. That's why improvising on the spot gets very dicey.
The study of social progress is to-day not less needed in literature than is the analysis of the human heart. We live in an age of universal investigation, and of exploration of the sources of all movements. France, for example, loves at the same time history and the drama, because the one explores the vast destinies of humanity, and the other the individual lot of man. These embrace the whole of life. But it is the province of religion, of philosophy, of pure poetry only, to go beyond life, beyond time, into eternity.