“Snow settles in the liver. The bowels grow thick with humidity.”

It’s been hard for me to not write, and that’s the only process I can speak to I guess, it’s so compulsive and I need to do it all the time that sometimes I make myself not do it so I can actually tend to my life.

I won’t eat right. I forget to do my laundry. I have a dog now, and I have to remember to walk him.

I dont see a lot of movies that portray the East Village as well as I think they can.

More often than not, an entropy creeps in that strangles me, and then the inevitable happens.

I don’t put big concepts on my work, and it’s all often about keeping actors in a room together and not letting them leave.

When I’m directing, I’m pretty much not writing, but when I’m not directing I am writing a lot.

You can’t run forever.

There must be some unwritten law that says about fifty people have to move into your house when somebody dies.

My life has been in shambles, like my personal relationships, my laundry, paying bills now I have someone who pays my bills and it’s always been a challenge because it overwhelms me.

I think, for me, when I direct my own work it’s just an extension of the authorship.

I don’t mind him not talking so much, because you can hear his voice in your heart

I tend to not write for a long period of time until I can’t not write, and then I write first drafts in gallops.

And now we have all this access to public transportation, automobiles and jets and the Internet

You want the tension to escalate. Keeping them there is the hardest part, so you have to take away any excuse for them to leave.

There’s only so much pavement that the road makers lay down. After a while, the highway quits going north and it just turns into sky.

The heart fills with warm rain that turns to mist and evaporates through a colder artery.

In times past, knowledge of the bowel was more widespread and people were taught how to care for the bowel.

Be careful! Travel expands the mind and loosens the bowels.