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

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 find auditioning to be a very illusive process, where actors come in with this really big result with no process, so it's a lie already at work.

I feel that I am just a storyteller, and whether I am wearing the director hat or the playwright hat, it doesn't matter.

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

When I got inside, I just sort of stood there. There's nothing stranger than the smell of someone else's house. The scent goes right to your stomach. Mary's house smelled like lemon furniture polish and oatmeal cookies and logs in a fireplace. For some reason it made me want to curl up in the fetal position. I could have slept right there on their kitchen table.

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