I was born imagining myself with an apron on, with pies cooling on the window sill and babies crying upstairs. I thought that all that stuff would somehow anchor me to the planet, that it was the weight I needed to keep from just flying off into space.

My father was a joyous, joyous spirit, he really was. He was a hedonist, that was just - he enjoyed life, thrust up to the elbows with it. He was a terrible father. I don't know that he was parented that well.

In my opinion, a problem derails your life and an inconvenience is not being able to get a nice seat on the un-derailed train.

I think of my body as a side effect of my mind.

My mother certainly loves caviar, but I think that's generational - they grew up thinking it's romantic or sophisticated or something.

As we all know, there is no underwear in space.

My mom is a little bit eccentric. I mean, she does - she has a lot of unique ideas. For example, she thought that I should have a child with her last husband, Richard, because it would have nice eyes.