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I love September, especially when we're in it.

September 11 is one of our worst days but it brought out the best in us. It unified us as a country and showed our charitable instincts and reminded us of what we stood for and stand for.

My birthday is Feb. 11, and I'm both excited and not excited by it. You'll never be 15 again, and you really, really need to savor every day like it's your last.

I loved doing My Favorite Year, which was great fun, and The Ruling Class, which I made with all my chums.

Between 2 and 3 in the morning of the 19th inst. I was aroused by the cry that the enemy was upon us.

September is my favourite month, particularly in Cornwall. I felt, even as a child, that if you get a wonderful day in September, you think: 'This could be one of the last, the summer is nearly over.' If you get a wonderful day in May, you think: 'So what, there's more coming.'

September 11 impressed upon us that life is a precious gift. Every life has a purpose. And I think we all have a duty to devote at least a small portion of our daily lives to ensuring that neither America nor the world ever forgets September 11.

August used to be a sad month for me. As the days went on, the thought of school starting weighed heavily upon my young frame. That, coupled with the oppressive heat and humidity of my native Washington, D.C., only seemed to heighten the misery.

I don't decide my politics based on the flavour of the month.

September 11 happened, and all my friends were like, 'Let's join the military!' and I was the only one who actually did.