I would say that among my many huge emotional miscalculations was my taking a film career for granted. It is the most awesome privilege to be able to use one's imagination and wit, physicality and musicality, conscious brain and unconscious instinct in the service of a work that has a chance to move and excite and amuse and delight people all over the world, including long after we're dead. What a noble calling! And I felt it was just there for me as a kind of given, some sort of inherited birthright-when in reality it's the most magnificent luxury.

I used to be so convinced that happiness was the goal, yet all those years I was chasing after it I was unhappy in the pursuit. Maybe the goal really should be a life that values honor, duty, good work, friends and family.

I think you end up doing the stuff you were supposed to do at the time you were supposed to do it.

Smoking dope and smoking coke, you are rendered defenseless. The only way out of that hopeless state is intervention.

Every time I feel that I really hit critical mass and I'm in the right place is when I feel like the director and I become a third thing, and that's the character.

I guess the main thing is, you unconsciously take things for granted, and you think the audience is with you, because you're with yourself.

I'm not 40 yet. I wouldn't even bother comparing myself to Chaplin.