For this moment, nothing matters. Look up into the stars and you're gone.

Just let your hand drop; and let fate decide for you.

Where every day doesn't start with an alarm clock and end with the television.

Screenwriters get paid a hell of a lot more money but their level of frustration seems to be so high that I don't want that.

We're all trapped. It's always 1734. All of us, we're stuck in the same time capsule, the same as those television shows where the same people are marooned on the same desert island for thirty seasons and never age or escape. They just wear more makeup. In a creepy way, those shows are maybe too authentic.

I wanted to destroy everything beautiful I'd never have.

You know that old phrase ‘Those who don’t remember the past are condemned to repeat it’? Well, I think those who remember the past are even worse off.