The point is that when I see a sunset or a waterfall or
something, for a split second it’s so great, because for a little bit
I’m out of my brain, and it’s got nothing to do with me. I’m not trying
to figure it out, you know what I mean? And I wonder if I can somehow
find a way to maintain that mind stillness.
Being a movie star is a quality that somebody sort of embodies, and being a celebrity is something that people give to you. It has to do with being recognizable, as opposed to something that people recognize in you. I just hope to make good movies. I know that sounds simple, but it’s true.
The biggest misconception is that I don’t have moments of vulnerability and weakness because I tend to play strong women. But I can cry and feel pathetic and like I want to give up, just like any other person.
I seem to keep ending up with these bad boy characters. I don’t understand what’s going on. I walk the street in New York feeling like I’m Paul Rudd or something, but apparently no one else sees it that way.
When I was 14 or 15, I was a really good volleyball player, so I thought, ‘Well, maybe I’ll just get a scholarship to an Ivy League school through volleyball.’ Then I quit when I decided to focus on theater.
When I first got to New York, my feet hit the sidewalk and you’d
have thought I was born and raised there. I took over that town. None of
my friends took me seriously. I came home and announced, “I’m going to
move to New York,” and they were like “Okay.” Then when I did, they kept
waiting for me to fail and come back. But I knew I wouldn’t. I was like
“I’ll show you.”