I always like the idea of doing interviews with somebody but completely seriously not ever mentioning what that person is generally known for.

People are strange, but more than that, they're good. They're good first, then strange.

We must do extraordinary things. We have to. It would be absurd not to.

His lies were so exquisite I almost wept.

Every time my brain parks the car neatly in the driveway, my mouth drives through the back of the garage.

Live long enough and you'll disappoint everyone. People think you're able to help them and usually you can't. And so it becomes a process of choosing the one or two people you try hardest not to disappoint. The person in my life I am determined not to disappoint is you.

No one’s forcing you to do this. You willingly tie yourself to these leashes. And you willingly become utterly socially autistic. You no longer pick up on basic human communication clues. You’re at a table with three humans, all of whom are looking at you and trying to talk to you, and you’re staring at a screen, searching for strangers in Dubai.