My music is like a baby pink frosted cake with sprinkles, but when you cut into it, there's a gooey, dark chocolate center.

I have a doughnut every morning. The same kind, from a street cart. Vanilla frosted with sprinkles on one half, weirdly. How hard is it to sprinkle the whole thing?

You know, all that really matters is that the people you love are happy and healthy. Everything else is just sprinkles on the sundae.

When ill luck begins, it does not come in sprinkles, but in showers.

I'm Method trained. How is this character like me? What does she think of her mother? What does her mother think of her? It's like construction and then yes you hope you're talented and that the universe aligns and captures the kind of laborer's work you've done and whatever else sprinkles down on you and it's all caught on film or onstage.

You know all that really matters is that the people you love are happy and healthy. Everything else is just sprinkles on the sundae.