I did my homework the way I fall asleep, slowly then not at all.
“It’s the oldest story in the world. One day you’re seventeen and planning for someday. And then quietly and without you ever really noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday. And this is your life.” … “Sometimes my heart aches at how my life turned out, in a good way. It doesn’t mean there haven’t been hardships, there have been but… I’m here and here is good.”
The misguidance of love is that it’s all about feeling good. But pride is what makes something worthwhile. Pride is what makes you care about the quality and impact of your work.
Loving what you do is not enough. The love we talk about when it comes to our work is fleeting. You can fall out of love through boredom or distraction, but pride runs much deeper. Pride doesn’t come and go with how fun things are. Pride is what gets you through the tough times when you just want to quit. Pride is the understanding that what you do and how you do it is a reflection of your character.
And yet, it’s crucial not to confuse pride with prestige, the ultimate warper of purpose.
I think it’s important to keep your personal life to yourself as much as you can. It protects your sanity and you need to have boundaries. And it helps that enchantment of watching an actor. If you know someone’s favourite colour or what they like to do on a Sunday, you won’t fall for the character as much. — Dianna Agron
Amen sister. This is why we share the same birthday.
"If you could give one piece of advice to a large group of people, what would it be?"
"When a wave comes, go deep."
"I think I’m going to need an explanation for that one."
"There’s three things you can do when life sends a wave at you. You can run from it, but then it’s going to catch up and knock you down. You can also fall back on your ego and try to stand your ground, but then it’s still going to clobber you. Or you can use it as an opportunity to go deep, and transform yourself to match the circumstances. And that’s how you get through the wave.”
It turns out that in Pompeii, they used to mark the road with “arrows” directing men to the nearest brothel. There are several of these throughout the city. I like to call them pompenises.
IT WAS NINETEEN HUNDRED YEARS AGO