I think because my brother was an actor and I just saw how he struggled through, I guess I'm sensitive to it.

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.

It's been hard for me to not write, and that's the only process I can speak to I guess, it's so compulsive and I need to do it all the time that sometimes I make myself not do it so I can actually tend to my life.

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

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

I began stealing a lot of ideas from other directors I had worked with.

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