Right now I'm doing four shows at a time, trying to read four outlines every week, four scripts every week, and watching four rough cuts; it's a lot of good work. It's fun to do it, but it does wear you out.
All my heroes wore coats and ties to work. What happened to men wearing hats? Maybe I should bring back hats.
If Disney wants ideas for a princess, make her an independent woman, one who is not afraid to face the daily struggles of life, and refuses to wear expensive dresses. Because we all know life is messy, and those dresses are too pretty to get dirty.
God, for example, appealed to me as a beardless man wearing a quilted silk cap; holiness was something burning, forbidding, something connected with fire while a day had the form of an oblong box.
It is as necessary for man to live in beauty rather than ugliness as it is necessary for him to have food for an aching belly or rest for a weary body.
I had a feeling it was gonna work out because not only did I enjoy the music and hit it off with the guys, but I was into theatrical rock and was willing to wear makeup and do anything to make it.
Each of the bracelets I wear is from a long trip I've taken. One is from Nicaragua. One is from Nepal. One is from Guatemala. One is from Laos. They don't come off. I walk into a lot of very high-level boardrooms now, and I present to distinguished conferences, but these bracelets remind me of the places I've been and the people I've met.
I swear my car won't run unless I'm picking my nose: At least, I'm that superstitious about it, so I don't want to take any chances.
Men should not be forced to wear pants when it's not cold.
I want to show that theater isn't just talking about feelings or people wearing tights.
