(I yelled,) 'Let go of my child. Let go of her. Let go of her.' That's the only thing I could scream.

After those three loses, we had never yelled so much. We definitely let it out.

They let themselves be bare before me. They screamed and yelled and cried and moaned and sobbed and growled. I gave them a scene, a character and maybe a line and, boom, all of sudden there was another human being in front of me.

If you let them go without asphalt you'll get potholes.

The more you invest in that child, the more you're not going to let some CD tell your child how to curse and how to say the word n----- is an accepted word -- so hip to use n----- but you can't even spell it.

I begged him to let me continue,