“And I try, I so try to fit everywhere, with everyone to be neutral, to be good and with all that, I lose myself. I lose the truest layer of all.”

Should you find the most convenient way of breathing, it will not make you feel more alive.

On the verge of what is there to see, a beautiful landscape of the sea washing away what we’re made off, looking back we drown we fall.

Do you recognize your voice, the one that’s coming from your own mouth, when words are forming on your tongue?

Curled up in a ball slowly shutting down as my body is being devoured by those ugly, fearsome monsters that have lived in my guts ever since I could remember.

So grand yet so small, so important yet so irrelevant, so beautiful yet so shallow, must thee live in illusion or does real life leave too much of a confusion?

Hatred conquers the sea in which is growing thee them tiny pearls struggling a little trying to solve the final riddle.

And when I was looking at myself in the mirror, I realized that beneath these scars lies a woman, that is good that is kind, that I myself aspired to be.

Carrying the weight of my mistakes I burst into flames that hurt my skin.

A sense of calmness in this chaotic world somehow soothes me.

Would you want to breathe if you were to ask for oxygen? Would you want to drink if you were to beg for a glass of water? would you want to eat if you were to pray for a plate of food? Well, I wouldn’t.

I can truly see myself in that light, the green iris of my eye like a jungle, full of life. And when snow covers the green, and my skin looses its color I crave that wilderness in my eye.

I believed less is what I needed, what I tried to achieve; I thought less is more, better, the minimalistic beauty of life.

Hatred conquers the sea in which is growing thee them tiny pearls struggling a little trying to solve the final riddle.

The beautiful repose of the night its silence and mystery contrasts the commotion of my soul.

Oh, how I wish you were here bathing in the silky sheets of my dreams, your lips on mine a flame and wine smoke in the air clouds filled with thoughts oh, how I long for your skin and touch.

When the grass turns brown nobody seems to care. It’s just temporary, they say yet I can feel it will stay and stay.

I tend to think of action movies as exuberant morality plays in which good triumphs over evil.

Say nothing but good of the dead.

I always thought the good thing about the guitar was that they didn’t teach it in school.

You don’t find geniuses in street musicians, but that doesn’t mean to say you can’t be really good.

All good actors are unpredictable, and a little crazy in a good way, because they feel more secure playing other people than themselves.

Nothing in fine print is ever good news.

I am relatively familiar with getting a good old rumping from the critics. In some cases, the critics just didn’t like the film – fair cop. Others, I think, didn’t understand it.

I want my weekends off and I want to put my kids to bed. Those are good reasons to want to be in ‘Batman 2’.