I moved to Chicago in the early 1990s and I studied improvisation there. I learned some rules that I try to apply still today: Listen. Say yes. Live in the moment. Make sure you play with people who have your back. Make big choices early and often. Don't start a scene where two people are talking about jumping out of a plane. Start the scene having already jumped. If you're scared, look into your partner's eyes — you will feel better.

I want to be around people who dream and support and do things.

I hope and assume that every good comedy writer, no matter the age, has a moment where they discover how great Cheers is.

Reading was a way to make friends or enemies, a way to discover how all these different people exist in the world and to rub shoulders with them. The ability to feel as if you have met someone, as if that person exists in flesh and blood and that you relate to them somehow, makes you feel a lot less lonely. And it also makes you feel very brave.

My idea of the perfect exercise class is this: The teacher gives us all a hug and goes, “You did it! You showed up! Let’s lie down.” We all lie down and she’s like, “How is everybody feeling?” We’re like, “Great!” And the teacher’s like, “Great!” Then we all get to leave 20 minutes early.

I like the person who commits and goes all in and takes big swings and then maybe fails or looks stupid; who jumps and falls down, rather than the person who points at the person who fell, and laughs.

Saying "yes" doesn't mean I don't know how to say no, and saying "please" doesn't mean I am waiting for permission.