I'm not particularly good at coping with it. I just cope. I just leave my brain at the door and just stand there. I can get the screaming more than I get the photo things. That's the worst, when you have this wall of photographers. I've never understood the logic in how they do it. Everybody shouts at the same time, and you're trying to do a logical thing, looking from the left to the right. And they almost always end up looking disappointed with you afterwards.

When the whole world is watch­ing you, they cre­ate sto­ries and give you labels that have noth­ing to do with you. It's almost impos­si­ble for you not to explode!

Only for practical reasons. To find out if I said something stupid in an interview. So I can limit the damage.

I was really unfit last year, so I worked out for a long time, then spent time by myself in Oregon. For about two months the only person I saw was my trainer. Every day I did a lot of running and I just didn’t want to talk to anyone for two months. So when I started talking again, it was like you would communicate wrongly, like you wouldn’t really remember how to speak. That was one of the key things as well as just reading the book, reading the script a million times, just figuring things out.

The person who proclaimed me Best Dressed Man never saw me in my sport outfit.

The only time I ever follow Twitter is if I'm in a restaurant or something, just before I leave, to see if people are waiting outside. It does make you a bit of a loser, especially when someone asks you, 'Hey, you want to go to dinner at this place?' and I'm like, 'Can we have dinner at this place? It has three exits.'

I had pecs for about two days. Everyone would hate me. Just look at me walking around with my little peacoat on. My little customized pea coat.