You see people - maybe in a frustrating fashion - that don't get embraced, when they should. You get some people who get embraced too early, and they tend to flame out, but it's really rare that someone gets lucky. It's usually a combination of a lot of talent and a lot of hard work.

I think there is a weird loneliness that comes with being a comedian. There is something definitely inside the personality of a person who wants to be a comedian, and (he or she) is looking to connect (to the audience) at all times.

Mania is fun. I won't lie, it's fun. But it's usually followed by a soul-crushing depression.

Life gave me a weird path to walk and it wasn't a very traditional path and that's good, I enjoyed it greatly. But I don't think that it was anybody's traditional definition of success but I really am thankful for it.

If there's one regret I have of my time in comedy it's that I really I was so obsessed with improv for so many years and I exclusively did improv for the first 6 years or 7 years. I was doing comedy and then I started doing solo work and stand up, a bit of writing, making videos, and really going into it on that end.

I'm actually in a funny place now where I'm more secure than I've ever been. My career is more stable than it's ever been and that's nice, but it's put this thought in my mind where I'm like, "I have more to lose now." I still have to remind myself that I can't be quiet and back away from the things that have got me here, which is kind of doing it my way and not necessarily caring what the consequences are. A lot of that comes back to music.

It's very interesting being an artist and a comedian, (because) you aim for jobs that will feed your ego, but when you get up to the precipice of them, you actually have to deliver. You actually have to understand that you're reaching a new level where there are way more eyes on you, way more expectations and way more pressure.