Everybody has felt a little sweet but psycho, and I’m sure everybody has been called sweet but psycho.
I love doing improv. I love comedy. I have always felt this way, even when I was really young.
After ‘Orange’ wrapped and my character wrapped, I felt like I went through a bit of a mourning period.
A president either is constantly on top of events or, if he hesitates, events will soon be on top of him. I never felt that I could let up for a moment.
The only reason I ever shared my health journey with the world was because I felt it to be my duty to sufferers that are bed-ridden and dying because there has yet to be found a proper diagnostic test for Lyme Disease in this country.
I’ve learnt that over the years, sometimes I was caring so much about how other people felt, I wasn’t standing up for myself and I wasn’t caring about how I felt even when people were straight up bullying me online.
When you think about martial arts here in the states, kickboxing was here in the ’70s, and it kind of ran its course. But I always felt there was a place in combat sports for kickboxing.
I decided to devote my life to telling the story because I felt that having survived I owe something to the dead. and anyone who does not remember betrays them again.
I don’t know that I would say I’ve felt like a 58-year-old, but I’ve never felt exactly my age, or in the right place.
I’ve always felt that improv looks and feels more clever when you’re there to experience it live than when you have the degree of separation that television creates. Television raises expectations.
There have been times when I felt suicidal and I would stop my head from going in that direction of negativity because I thought there’d be something I’d miss that was funny in the future. If there’s a chance I’m going to laugh tomorrow then want to live to experience that.
When I was in my former band Downhere, I did everything I could not to remind people of Freddie Mercury, but it became almost hilarious how many people compared me to him to the point where it felt like it was working against the band when we tested singles at radio.
I was pretty as a child and I felt that I wasn’t very manly and that plagued me for years.
I looked at my hands to see if I was the same person. There was such a glory over everything. The sun came up like gold through the trees, and I felt like I was in heaven.
At 18, I felt I was too young to think about having my eggs frozen.
It was improv that really helped me start coming up with recipes and just believe in my instincts. That’s why the first recipe I made up was ‘I Ain’t Chicken Chicken’ because I finally felt bold and fearless in the kitchen, which was an entirely new feeling for me.
When I was on a major label I felt obliged to say yes to every interview, tour and whatever else. The label is always telling you, ‘This ain’t going to last,’ so I worked myself half to death. I learnt from that and I like to pace myself now.
I loved eating and I did put on weight. I never actually felt fat until I started going for castings, for auditions.
The fate of nations is intimately bound up with their powers of reproduction. All nations and all empires first felt decadence gnawing at them when their birth rate fell off.
As soon as I got out there I felt a strange relationship with the pitcher’s mound. It was as if I’d been born out there. Pitching just felt like the most natural thing in the world. Striking out batters was easy.
As far as the Russians were concerned, I felt the reverse; they had adequate gold, if they wanted to buy, and they weren’t dependent upon international trade. I felt they were more self-sufficient.
I’ve spent my whole life playing football. My father didn’t want me to play rugby because he felt it was very hard on the body, so at school, I was encouraged to play football, and that’s where everything started.
I turned 30 as a janitor. I was thinking at the time that Hank Williams died when he was 29. All my peers were at least 10 years younger than I was. I felt like an old has-been at the time.
I have always felt intuitively that somehow such wealth cannot be the privy of any one person or any one family.
I confess I’ve never felt like a passenger.
I didn’t feel like I fitted in. I felt like I was a hindrance to A-ha.
And when I’ve been away from my family and friends, I have felt good hearing some of those old songs.
Even close people left me – I was hurt by them and felt there was nobody who understands me, which made me fall apart.
But sometimes I’ve felt a little constrained by that idea of who I’m meant to be.
When I was at school at Paris, I had special lessons from Mademoiselle Antoine, an actress at the Comedie Francaise, and I was taken to every sort of play. I felt very grand.
It was inevitable that in doing this I should arrive at new results, and it is perhaps understandable that in the end I have felt impelled to present these results not only in the dry form of a catalogue, but also in a more connected and personal one.
As far as success, I have always felt that success is determined by competitiveness.
When I felt rather overcome with my father’s opposition, I said as firmly as I could, that I must have this or something else, that I could not live without some real work.
When I discovered minimal music I felt I could create my vision – it was totally different to traditional music.
I felt like I needed to come to terms with the decision I’d made to let go of my family. What do you do when you want to be loyal to your family but you feel that loyalty to them is in conflict somehow with loyalty to yourself?
I do not want to name any individual names, but I felt like when I was working in Hollywood, there were some fellow colleagues of mine who didn’t even look me in the eyes because I was Asian.
Because I have always felt privileged. I have been able to do what I love, I have always been treated well, I have always been paid well so that’s why. I feel that I owe something; that I need to return something. It’s always been a great pleasure but nevertheless I do feel this responsibility.
Over the years, my work became both my vocation and avocation. Since I enjoyed it so much, I never felt a great need to go outside for relaxation. Nevertheless, I became an avid photographer and traveler. Possibly my love for travel stems from the early years when my family seldom went away on vacation.
I’m really quite happy to say that in my early 40s, I wake up feeling sexy, and I can’t say I felt that way in my late 20s.
I was really nervous, intimidated by the whole thing-all the people and all the buzzing, and all the sitting around waiting. I felt really small in this huge place.
Today I start a diary; it is against my usual habbits, but out of a clearly felt need.
Depression, for me, has been a couple of different things – but the first time I felt it, I felt helpless, hopeless, and things I had never felt before. I lost myself and my will to live.
I seek out hard things. I tried to imitate other singers. It was a self-discovery for me to move from imitating others to me growing to sing in my own voice. The opera was difficult and it felt like a personal conquest.
My father was so very afraid. I felt it in the sting of his black leather belt, which he applied with more anxiety than anger, my father who beat me as if someone might steal me away, because that was exactly what was happening all around us.
I’ve moved around so much my whole life, and I’ve gotten so used to being the Other in situations – the foreigner, the outsider. The first time I’ve ever felt like there was no separation between me and the other elements was in music.
I went to the University of Arizona. I stopped because I went there for two years and I felt like I experienced college or whatever. I’m over it. I like Hollywood better.
It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn’t feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.
When I was signed by Elite Model Agency, my mom felt it was the right place as it was a professional agency.
Before Hurricane Katrina, I always felt like I could come back home. And home was a real place, and also it had this mythical weight for me. Because of the way that Hurricane Katrina ripped everything away, it cast that idea in doubt.
I’ve been lucky enough to be surrounded by people that were always supporting me, and I never felt pressure.
I had been a fan of Gene Wilder’s for many years, but the first time I saw him in person, my heart fluttered – I was hooked. It felt like my life went from black and white to Technicolor.
I was on my bike, cycling to Stanford, and it struck me that a week had gone by without my having a phone. And everything was just fine. Better than fine, actually. I felt more relaxed, carefree, happier.
My overwhelming memory of being a child is the huge amount of love I felt for my mum. She was my everything, because she was both my mum and my dad.
I was obsessed with ‘The Velvet Rope’ for a year straight, letting Janet Jackson’s confessional lyrics lull me to sleep and comfort me when I felt lost. I felt that the album was the vehicle onto which Janet finally expressed her full self.
My parents broke up when I was six. Before, I was a very active, naughty child, but after my father left me, I stopped talking. I became very good at hiding my emotions. I felt so ashamed of telling others that I didn’t have a father, because that was not common in the 1960s.
