Love is something you cant invent, no matter how much you want to.

Cutting negative people from my life does not mean I hate them, it simply means I respect me.

As Michael (Chekhov)'s pupil, I learned more about acting. I learned psychology, history, and the good manners of art - taste.

The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead.

Everyone’s childhood plays itself out. No wonder no one knows the other or can completely understand. By this I don’t know if I’m just giving up with this conclusion or resigning myself — or maybe for the first time connecting with reality. How do we know the pain or another’s earlier years, let alone all that he drags with him since along the way at best a lot of leeway is needed for the other — yet how much is unhealthy for one to bear. I think to love bravely is the best and accept — as much as one can bear.

I don't understand why people aren't a little more generous with each other.

Within crisis, are the seeds of opportunity.