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

I’ll take a break for a couple weeks for a project that is paying me money like a television project which I try to stay away from just to stay financially ahead of the game.

The scent goes right to your stomach.

You don’t really develop feelings about a place till you’ve left it. It’s like a girl or a dog.

I grew up eating hamburger helper, macaroni and cheese, and drinking lots of milk, and looked at lots of cows; but I feel like a New Yorker now, I’ve lived here for sixteen years.

When I got inside, I just sort of stood there. There’s nothing stranger than the smell of someone else’s house

Obviously the power of the Times is discouraging. It’s killing new plays, demolishing one after another.

When it’s just a few scenes and a couple of actors behaving in a room, I feel very confident with that.

A typical day for me is I’m writing when I’m not directing.

Mary’s house smelled like lemon furniture polish and oatmeal cookies and logs in a fireplace.

I would hope that the staffs at juvenile detention centers and reform schools are carefully chosen so that there is a community of support and hope.

You can always count on the New York Times to cut your legs off.

I appreciate good criticism and I think it’s really important.

You have to escape to survive, as you must survive to escape.

Grief does not expire like a candle or the beacon on a lighthouse. It simply changes temperature. It becomes a kind of personal weather system.

My work is always more emotional than I am.

And there’s nothing like the feeling of perfection that will inspire repeated behavior.