I meet people and a lot of times, instead of saying, “Are you from the East Coast?” people just go, “you’re from the East Coast, right?”, having no reason to have known that. I don’t know what that is. Maybe it’s just that I’m Jewish.
I get up in the morning and I put on makeup and then I say somebody else’s words in someone else’s clothes, and then I go home and watch TV, have a glass of whisky and go to bed.
If you’re starting to lose your faith in the general intelligence of the American populous, there’s nothing like them mistaking pop culture for Van Gogh as a sign that people still read their history books and care about art.
When you realize the writers start writing to who you are, you’re basically reading reviews of yourself. And then it becomes this cyclical nightmare where I feel like I need to play into it, then I find myself acting like the character in real life.
