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.

There was a lot of soul searching and at the end of the day I looked back and realized it was all worth it and successful in its own way and it's led to me having this career that's much more in my hands and in my control than it would have been otherwise.

If I could have enough money that I know I could buy a house someday, and if I want to have kids, I could raise them - I don't need the money grab. I don't need to have a mansion. I just need to be creative and happy.

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.

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.

There are many hundreds of millions of people who have jobs harder than (mine), and I also remind myself of that every day. No matter how frustrating this can be, I am very lucky that I have been able to cobble together a little life, in which (comedy) is what I do. I am certainly not in danger of getting stuck in a mine anytime soon.

I'm not good at math. Numbers are a terrifying thing to me. My father is a whiz with money and the stock market, and he tries to explain it to me, and I find it terrifying.