Going into auditions, there is a wonderful butterfly feeling in your stomach - an equal balance of being utterly terrified and exhilarated that this is your chance.
Going on Letterman is like going off the high dive. It's exhilarating, but after a while it wasn't the kind of thrill I enjoyed.
I used to be very shy. I hated going to a new classroom and having to make new friends, meet new teachers, and adjust to a new environment.
I am a shy man. I can't call a stranger and talk.
I'm intimidated anytime I work with someone who's directly outside my very insulated group of friends.
There is nothing that man fears more than the touch of the unknown. He wants to see what is reaching towards him, and to be able to recognize or at least classify it. Man always tends to avoid physical contact with anything strange.
You'd think after 100 shows you'd be used to this, but it's not true for me. It always feels like the first show.
As evidenced during my failed audition, I'm a thorough introvert who would completely hate living in a 'Real World' house. I would have taken my Ikea comforter to the confessional room and never come out.
People say to me that I can't be nervous because I've had such a wealth of experience, but I tell them that I have never done this particular part before.
People are afraid of detail and complexity.
I think people are always nervous for your first game.
I'm always very scared when I start a movie because I never know if I'm going to be able to do a good job or do a very bad job.
The blind audition process can be nerve-wracking.
The dread of evil is a much more forcible principle of human actions than the prospect of good.
I write of the wish that comes true - for some reason, a terrifying concept.
The world on the outside was tougher than I imagined. I felt allergic to fresh air, and my feet hurt from wearing shoes again. I didn't know how long I was going to live, so I did everything as fast as I could.
The feeling I had several times in youth, when lying in a field staring up at the night sky, that I might fall into the infinite void - for people like me, this idea mostly provokes anxiety.
What I've realised is that when I walk into a club, I don't feel good, I feel uncomfortable. I wonder what to do, I look for my drink... it's not necessarily an enjoyable experience, so why would I put myself through that?
For me, the scariest moment is walking on set before we shoot the first shot, and I am so anxious. It's a lot of pressure, and it's scary, and I don't think that fear ever goes away.
Death's not one of those things that frighten the life out of me. Getting up on stage with the curtain going up frightens me more.
When I was starting out, I saw it as something that was definitely going to end. Every time I came to New York for fashion week or to interview someone, I was so sad going back home because I thought, 'These things don't get to last.' That's sort of the narrative of young success.
It's that stubborn fixation on details that has invariably prevented me from getting excited about celebrating each passing year. Which is why my friends know that doing things such as throwing me surprise parties would only serve to surprise me with an overwhelming sense of panic and anxiety.
A lot of my friends who grew up in Manhattan have a strange phobia about Brooklyn. It's big and scary and they get lost.
In fact I have nightmares about having children. I want to carry a baby and feel the life within me and in my dream, I do. But every time after it's born, there's this incredible fear, this pounding pulse of fear. It's a real bad nightmare.
I don't like telephones: I don't like when they ring. Just because it rings, you have to pick it up. I don't even like opening mail; I'm weird.
