What father ever gave up his son to death for the sake of his slave!
When I was first starting out, and I was less established, I was really concerned about being typecast.
Oh heck yeah, I totally would love to have a Phantom Dennis in real life.
Sure, I'd take the responsibility of queen any day.
This is funny because I just had a job over the summer for VH1, a project I did called Strange Frequency where I got to play a Goth rock band singer.
I have insecurities about being a good mom, or balancing my career with motherhood. All of those are very strong, very real obstacles. My motto is just unconsciously, and maybe now consciously because I'm saying it, is sink or swim. I'm a fighter.
So I begged, half way into season two, for them to let me cut my hair.
I had a number of teachers who hated me. I didn't do well in school.
This labour of the artist to discover a means of apprehending beneath matter and experience, beneath words, something different from their appearance, is of an exactly contrary nature to the operation in which pride, passion, intelligence and habit are constantly engaged within us when we spend our lives without self-communion, accumulating as though to hide our true impressions, the terminology for practical ends which we falsely call life.
Just because somebody hears something you say, or reads something that you write, doesn't mean you've reached them. With reading comprehension being what it is in the U. S. , you can safely toss that one out the window. If you want to judge by the listening habits of people who buy records, the first thing they do is put it on and talk over it.
Love your enemies. . . it's not always an easy tenet to live by. . . and I have more often than not been inclined to wish my enemies ill than well.