We only have so much time.... Time will kill you – it really will.

Fifteen years ago I killed my sister.

I imagine a soul is a little perfect crystal egg floating in your chest. Somewhere deeper than where they put your heart. Somewhere so deep inside that the doctors can't find it with all their machines and microcameras.

What I've learned in the last few years is that I am merely a storyteller.

When I kicked in the first TV – a nineteen-inch Magnavox with wicker speaker panels – it felt like the most perfect thing I had done in a long time. And there's nothing like the feeling of perfection that will inspire repeated behavior.

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.

I've never really felt that I've had the right hair cut, or had the right clothes.