I don't know a man on this Earth who can outwork me.

I know you are here to kill me. Shoot, coward, you are only going to kill a man.

You know what makes me mad about 'The Bachelorette?' That, you know, that that chick would get a man. Get me a date.

It seems to me that man is made to act rather than to know: the principles of things escape our most persevering researches.

I know I was known as a ladies man and all that, but even the thought of holding my heroine's hand made me break into a sweat.

For a heterosexual man - I know that's a hotly debated topic, but only among those who don't know me - I have grown to really appreciate fashion.

After I've gone out with a man a few times, he starts to tell me how much he loves me. But how can I know if he really means it? How can I ever be sure?

It's a weird thing, beards now. I'll be in east London, and lads come up to me: 'Yo man, what beard oil do you use?' I'm like, 'I don't know what you're talking about.' It's just laziness.

I don't know what's coming down the pike in 'Gotham.' Part of me goes, 'Man, I just wish I could be in the writers' room. Do you need someone to make you guys coffee?' I just want to be a part of the flow of it.

Corey Graves - he's thrown jabs at me; I've thrown jabs back, you know? And you know, the thing is, Corey Graves, of course, yeah, he's a college educated young man. His vernacular is a little different than mine.

That's like one of the things - you know, being a writer, it's not just like they're constantly like giving you jobs and shows. There was some lean years, man, and - well, a lean year and a half. 'Woe is me.' Right?

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