A Quote by J. K. Rowling
In fact, you couldn't give me anything to make me go back to being a teenager. Never. No, I hated it.
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You go to a show, and there's no food at all, so if you're doing shows back to back, you can forget eating. I remember standing up in the bath one day, and there was a mirror in front of me, and I was so thin! I hated it. I never liked being that skinny.
I'm closer to being happy. I'm doing things that make me happy. In football I loved to practice and I loved to play, but I hated to be in meetings, hated to talk to the media, hated to have cameras in my face, hated to sign autographs. I hated to do all those things.
So when somebody asks me to make a decision about a situation, I don't offer a solution, I ask a question: What are our options? Give me the good, give me the bad, give me the pretty, give me the ugly, give me the impossible, give me the possible, give me the convenient, give me the inconvenient. Give me the options. All I want are options. And once I have all the options before me, then I comfortably and confidently make my decision.
I was always the popular kid that everyone hated. There was no reason for anyone to hate me. I never really did anything wrong. They just didn't like me, so I had to fight back all the time.
I hardly ever go back to Florida. It's really hard to go back. I mean, I hated it so much. I didn't grow up in a great neighborhood, and it puts me back in that feeling of, "I want to get out immediately." That was kind of the push and what still pushes me, that I don't want to end up back there.
Defend my honor protect my pride the good advice i always hated but looking back it made me greater .. u make me laugh u make me hoarse from yelling at you and getting at u.
As a teenager, my father took me to the shows at the Architectural Association and to places like Milton Keynes back when it was first being built. But I couldn't find anything for me. There seemed to be despair at the possibility of the built environment possessing any imagination in the real world.
Give me the microphone in the ring, on a headset, or tell me to take a flat back I'll do it brother. I'm ready to go for anything.
When I announced on my Facebook page that I'm coming to Israel, people started telling me that I shouldn't go there, but I figured that if I'm not going to come here, then I guess I can't go back to the United States anymore and I can never go to Russia again and I should probably never go back to Germany and I should probably never go back to France and I should probably never go back to England....All I see here is a really beautiful city.
I have never written a play, a story, a poem, or my one film - anything - unless something was troubling me enough, wrecking me, in fact, to drive me back into the absurdity of writing. I do not enjoy writing.
There's a good reason for the media hating me. And once I came to grips with that fact, that there's a reason they should hate me, then it makes sense. One of the toughest things I had to do was learn to psychologically accept the fact that being hated was a sign of success.
I look for something that can challenge me or makes me ever so slightly afraid - fearful of how I am going to approach it - then I'll go for it. If the project appears linear or predictable, then I'll usually give it a miss. Anything that involves me being stretched as an actor, I go for.
My mom and my dad never pushed me into performing. They never prohibited me from trying anything, or being anything. They never restricted me in any way. For which I'll be forever grateful.
I was driving in Manhattan. There's traffic, nobody's moving... The guy behind me is honking just at me. He kept yelling at me. I decided that I'm gonna argue with this guy, but I'm gonna argue about something else. I'm not having his argument; I'm having mine. So, he's like, 'Go!' And I go, 'Well give me back my jacket!' And he stopped. I was like, 'Yeah, you got my jacket! Give it back! I said you could borrow it, not have it! You're stretching it out, you fat pig! Give it back, now!' He got back in his car, and he locked his doors.
I hated singing, I hated being on stage; I hated being in the Cranberries. I was constantly crying. I was going insane. I wanted to be a shopkeeper, a hairdresser, anything. I was so desperate to have a reality, friends, a regular, boring life. I missed that.
I search my brain for the truth. “I want it more than anything, just as long as you promise me one thing.” “And what’s that?” “That if at any time it gets to be too much for you, you’ll leave me—walk away and get out.” “That will never happen,” he guarantees me. “You need to give me some credit. You left me, ripped out my heart, and then came back acting like a robot, and you know what? We made it through. You and I, good or bad, belong together. We make each other whole.
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