People ask all the time, “What are you thinking?” It’s my least favorite question in the world. The last bastion of solace is my mind. It’s an invasion.

Guys, IMDB right there, 62 movies, a ton of success, I mean, come on bro, I won best picture at 20. I wasn’t even trying.

You can’t cure your own cancer, obviously, especially if it’s late stage.

I don’t have a tuxedo that fits anymore because my chest and my biceps are too big.

Shooting a movie can be so tedious. You’re trying to get 20 different angles on the same swing. You never get into a rhythm. But I took it very seriously.

I have a 10,000-year-old brain and the boogers of a 7-year-old. That’s how I describe myself.

I just didn’t believe I was like everybody else. I thought I was unique.

Fame is empowering. My mistake was that I thought I would instinctively know how to handle it. But there’s no manual, no training course.

You can’t beat me. I have the mind of a warlock with adonis DNA. Winning!

But you can’t focus on things that matter if all you’ve been is asleep for forty years. Funny how sleep rhymes with sheep. You know.