In the clearing stands the boxer, and a fighter by his trade. And he carries a reminder of every glove that laid him down, or cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame “I am leaving! I am leaving” but the fighter still remains.
I don’t very often think I’ve done a good job. I don’t like the majority of what I do. I shouldn’t say I don’t like it, but I’m not satisfied with almost everything that I do.
If you can get humor and seriousness at the same time, you’ve created a special little thing, and that’s what I’m looking for, because if you get pompous, you lose everything.
The dialogue between what’s going on in the world and what’s going on internally seems to be a natural thing – well, it’s natural to me, anyway, to have these thoughts.
I try to open up my heart as much as I can and keep a real keen eye out that I don’t get sentimental. I think we’re all afraid to reveal our hearts. It’s not at all in fashion.
