I'm a little bit perverse, and I just hate doing the thing that's the most obvious.

You can never fully put your finger on the reason why you're suddenly, inexplicably compelled to explore one life as opposed to another.

I spend many months in apparently listless rumination out of which I hope something will emerge.

Many years ago, I really didn't know where the next work was coming from.

Perhaps I'm particularly serious, because I'm not unaware of the potential absurdity of what I'm doing.

I have a competition in me. I want no one else to succeed. I hate most people.

I've been very lucky.