“The rooms I tend to be in are pretty democratic and the best idea wins.”

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 Chekhov, when people leave, a carriage is taking them away forever.

Fifteen years ago I killed my sister.

Somewhere so deep inside that the doctors can’t find it with all their machines and microcameras.

It’s strange, people have asked me what my schedule is and what is my process like, and I can’t even answer it.

I think auditioning can be very reductive and I just hate how actors work really hard and most of them aren’t going to get the job, and I hate putting them through that.

I don’t like the sort of hierarchical, totalitarian type of room a lot of directors can find themselves in.

Ice congeals in the stomach. Frost spiderwebs in the lungs.