A Quote by Elvis Mitchell

Often, when Jim Carrey plays it straight, all of the vitality is drained from his face; he looks like a root-canal patient trying out a pleasant expression for his oral surgeon.
I remember doing a comedy show with Jim Carrey once, and he was out there with his foot behind his neck and rubbing his face with it.
I'd say people that really inspired me at first were like, Dustin Hoffman, Jim Carrey... serious Jim Carrey though.
I knew since third grade I wanted to be Jim Carrey. His freedom, his goofiness, his crazy, loud, sudden energy. I told my family I was going to be a pediatrician, but in the back of my mind, I was like, 'Nope, I'm going to be the biggest movie star ever.'
I used to tour a little bit with Jim Carrey and help him out on his first Showtime special.
Boys from my generation all love Jim Carrey! But you know, just being in his house with him and pitching jokes that he would act out, literally felt like the dreams that I had, so it was amazing.
Jim Carrey is a consummate actor and professional. He comes on set, knows his lines and knows his moves.
Jim Carrey is a consummate actor and professional. He comes on set, knows his lines and knows his moves
I was a giant fan of 'Whose Line Is It Anyway' in high school, and I was obsessed with Jim Carrey and cut out any picture of Jim Carrey that ever came in any kind of magazine. I put it all over my walls. At the time, I thought humor was just repeating lines from 'Ace Ventura' ad nauseum in the back of my advanced math class.
People ask me what it was like working with Jim Carrey. Well, I never really saw too much of him. I would talk to him on the set, but I was looking at a Grinch facade. It was his voice and all, but... Jim is amazing to watch in front of the camera. I learned a lot from him. He was also always very nice and generous to me.
The only one who didn't know was George Lucas. We kept it from him, because we wanted to see what his face looked like when it changed expression--and he fooled us even then. He got Industrial Light and Magic to change his facial expressions for him and THX sound to make the noise of a face-changing expression.
Floating Points plays a lot of music that I don't know, and I like geeking out and trying to find out what the tracks are. His knowledge of house music is pretty deep, and his selection is just amazing. And I think it's a pleasure to listen to his music because it's so perfectly produced.
Just look at the back of Donald Trump's head, any angle. There's some angles that his chin is just, what do I mean? I mean he's sculpted out of some kind of pudding, I think. It looks like his face is sort of melting slowly. I should talk because my face is melting quickly. He's some kind of bizarre sculpture. There's no one really who looks like that.
I think we owe it to children to let them dig their knowledge, of whatever subject, for themselves out of the "fit" book; and this for two reasons: What a child digs for is his own possession; what is poured into his ear, like the idle song of a pleasant singer, floats out as lightly as it came in, and is rarely assimilated. I do not mean to say that the lecture and the oral lesson are without their uses; but these uses are, to give impulse and to order knowledge; and not to convey knowledge.
Across from me at the next row of supports Jim raised his hand and touched his fingers to his thumb a few times, imitating an opening and closing beak. Negotiate. He wanted me to engage a lunatic who had already turned four people into smoking meat. Okay. I could do that. “Alright, Jeremy!” I yelled into the night. “Give me the salamander and I won’t cut your head off!” Jim put his hand over his face and did some shaking. I thought he was laughing, but I couldn’t be sure.
Papa sat with me tonight. He brought the accordion down and sat close to where Max used to sit. I often look at his fingers and face when he plays. the accordion breathes. There are lines on his cheeks. They look drawn on, and for some reason, when I see them, I want to cry. It is not for any sadness or pride. I just like the way they move and change. Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the notes.
[He] saw that a peculiar expression had come into his nephew's face; an expression a little like that of a young hindu fakir who having settled himself on his first bed of spikes is beginning to wish that he had chosen one of the easier religions.
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