My father died. It is still a deep regret to me this day that in choosing acting as my career I was forced to hurt him. He died too early to see I had done the right, the only thing.

My birth neither shook the German Empire nor caused much of an upheaval in the home. It pleased mother, caused father a certain amount of pride and my elder brother the usual fraternal jealousy of a hitherto only son.

I turned down the first script offered to me, and the second. I lay on my back one day under an umbrella, in the garden, reading the third, and wondered why I had turned down the first.

I have no illusions about my art. I am what the public made me and, consequently, I am not likely to forget my debt to them.

When you analyze happiness, it turns out that the way you spend your time is extremely important.

Meeting with people is awesome in every sense of the word. It can inspire you with glee. It can inspire you with happiness. It can inspire you with sadness and melancholy, but also hope.

Pellegrini gave me back the joy of playing football. He is like Arsene Wenger: someone who likes to joke, someone who likes to talk and take an interest in your life.

Happiness is neither without us nor within us. It is in God, both without us and within us.