Jaimie Alexander Quotes

Los Angeles, I don't like that town. Too decadent, and it's slimy.

I don't want to play stinking, beer-ridden clubs. It depresses me even thinking about that. I really hate it when you're finished with a show and you're in your dressing room with that stink of beer and sweaty girls. It brings back an ugly picture for me. I'd hate to have to do that again.

My feeling at Feyenoord was not that good. I never felt really comfortable.

L.A. is like an oil rig. It's not pretty. It's awful. The air is bad, the view is bad, the people are bad.

New York is appalling, fantastically charmless and elaborately dire.

No offense to anybody from Pittsburgh, but Pittsburgh wasn't for me.

Whenever I wear things that feel too tight or dig in that's always a clear understanding that I'm not going to feel good that day.

L.A. is big, although Hollywood's not as glamorous as I thought; it's kind of grungy.

I know that Perugia is probably the least-welcome place for me in the entire world.

There's not a lot of hope coming from the inner city.

Many of the young people living in inner-city America don't see themselves - I mean, they even talk about things like death and dying. And there's a tremendous loss of hope. And of all the things to lose, I think nothing is worse or more difficult to overcome than the loss of hope.

Put someone on a horse looking cold and wet, and they don't have to act. They just are cold and wet.

Boy, I wouldn't want to live in L.A.

I didn't want to be the aunt where you come over and can't sit on the sofa.

I am bored of the 'Gangs of Wasseypur' image.

It is like sitting in a traffic jam on the San Diego Freeway with your windows rolled up and Portuguese music booming out of the surround-sound speakers while animals gnaw on your neck and diseased bill collectors hammer on your doors with golf clubs.

Los Angeles is like San Diego's older, uglier sister that has herpes.

Los Angeles is a constellation of plastic.

In railway halls, on pavements near the traffic, They beg, their eyes made big by empty staring And only measuring Time , like the blank clock. No, I shall weave no tracery of pen-ornament To make them birds upon my singing tree: Time merely drives these lives which do not live As tides push rotten stuff along the shore.

There is no pedestrian culture [in South Central Los Angeles].

It's an ill will that blows when you leave the hairdresser.

The States were much more fun. L.A. was L.A. It's not L.A. now. L.A. infested with jaded 12-year-olds is not the L.A. that I really dug.

I grew up in South Central Los Angeles, where people are in cars.