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 you are a New York comedian who knows how to improvise and has glasses, you're going to start getting commercials.

It's nice that I can go on the road and there are more people to buy tickets. There are also more people to piss off who might not buy a ticket if I say the wrong thing. But I have to remember that if I stifle what my gut tells me to say in the name of "What if that person doesn't buy a ticket someday?" that's just not how I came up or how I thought. I have to consciously remind myself that even though things are going better now, I still have to be who I've always been. I can't get gun shy or scared about that.

The whole romanticized sad clown thing, we have to get rid of that. That has to go. That's just getting sick people to voluntarily stay sicker and sadder than they have to be.

When you try to go back and watch improv on tape, it almost never feels as good as it did when a crowd was laughing at it.

I think people kind of come up and go, "Why hasn't that person busted out?" Almost always at the end of career, what you find out is that either consciously or subconsciously success hasn't happened because that person hasn't chosen for it to happen. Either through walking away because it wasn't the life they wanted or through self-sabotaging because they weren't ready.

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