Only when Stephen Strange has his accident and everything that he's ever had in his life falls apart that he becomes pretty monstrous. It's the self-loathing rage of a wounded animal and he doesn't have a coping mechanism at all. It ties in with the discipline and the magic of this world.

I'm not one for doing the children's party version: "Hi, I'm a character in a movie and now I'm in reality!" I was doing the last shot of the film before reshoots outside their shop. I was starting my run into the frame and I thought, "You are literally ending where this began. The loop of serendipity's too much to not go in and acknowledge it." I just wanted to see the look on their faces.

I'm a high-functioning sociopath, do your research.

[Doctor Strange] is difficult, he's arrogant, but he's kind of brilliant and charming and you'd think, "Yeah, I'd want him on my head if I needed brain surgery." He's good enough to warrant his arrogance and he respects other people but not when he thinks he's right and he'll just do what he deems needs to be done when he knows or feels that he's right and the problem from humility's point of view is that he is right, he's really really good at his job.

One of the fears of having too much work is not having time to observe. And once you get recognised, there is nowhere for you to look any more. You can't sit on a night bus and watch it all happen.

Sherlock [Holmes] is on the side of the angels, but don't think he's one of them. He uses similar means, but it seems to be for a better purpose, one would hope.

Laughing and crying are really similar - what happens to your body. It's a very similar process in your diaphragm. Like a musician, you have to do your scales once in a while and warm up your voice.