Progress not perfection.
Humans are made from nuclear ash of dead stars
I wish I had a boyfriend. I wish he lived in the wardrobe on a coat hanger. Whenever I wanted, I could get him out and he'd look at me the way boys do in films, as if I'm beautiful.
It was strange how words meant something when they came out of your mouth. Inside your head they were safe and silent, but once they were outside, people grabbed hold of them.
All I know is that I have two choices – stay wrapped in blankets and get on with dying, or get the list back together and get on with living.
I want to die in my own way. It's my illness, my death, my choice. This is what saying yes means.
I'm me and you're you, and all of them out there are them. And we're all so different and equally unimportant.
There was no press involvement, there was no pressure. Life was very pure and it became more complicated.
As I found out making this last movie ["Method"], if you ever do things in an unusual, different way, you got to fight because there's no way people will let you.
We travel with the same clan over and over again, from one life to the next, until some ultimate purpose is fulfilled and we no longer need to return.
First, there was 2 Stupid Dogs. Then, Dexters Laboratory. And now, Powerpuff Girls. There were a lot of little things in between, but those were the main ones.