If you give up on your dreams, what's left?

I wrote myself a check for ten million dollars for acting services rendered and dated it Thanksgiving 1995. I put it in my wallet and it deteriorated. And then, just before Thanksgiving 1995, I found out I was going to make ten million dollars for Dumb & Dumber. I put that check in the casket with my father because it was our dream together.

Heaven is on the other side of that feeling you get when you’re sitting on the couch and you get up and make a triple-decker sandwich. It’s on the other side of that, when you don’t make the sandwich. It’s about sacrifice... It’s about giving up the things that basically keep you from feeling. That’s what I believe, anyway. I’m always asking, "What am I going to give up next?" Because I want to feel.

I don't think you can know God unless you're passionate about him so you're either screaming at him, enraptured with the idea of being around him or feeling him in your life.

I hope everybody could get rich and famous.

My social life goes in bursts, where I get like, "Oh, I gotta get out and do something, man, I gotta do something." And I'll plan a trip and go on a motorcycle trip down the Baja Peninsula for 900 miles and I'll hang out with my friends for like a month, and then they'll never see me for two months or three months or whatever, and I won't answer any calls.

I really have always thought of myself as somebody who lives in the middle of the wheel and is able to go to the extreme, to the outside of the wheel in any direction. The best case scenario for me is to be able to be centered and then go out.