You become a parent, and your whole life becomes about worrying. You just worry constantly whether they'll be okay. And the idea that I'll be worried forever about them and what they do...I almost have a panic attack when I think about it. I'm worried, and I'm worried about having to worry so goddamn much.

You always worry and you always fear what's next. But you eventually just push forward knowing you can't really do much about getting rid of the anxiety. You see people get pets after their kids leave the house because they're so used to having something around to dote on and worry about.

You need to be funny in a way that people feel like you're trying to make a deeper connection. So that's what I try to do.

You'll paint some nursery and the kid will want to sleep in a drawer.

You cannot hide from the world. It will find you. It always does. And now it has found me. My split second of immortality is over. All that's left now is the end, which is all any of us ever has.

I took time in the day to write as much of the book as I possibly could. I didn't write too much at night, because I don't like to - I'd rather watch TV.

I was strangely looking forward to writing about my DUI arrest, only because I've known for four years that I was gonna write about it somehow. I dunno that it was "fun" to write, just something I'd been aching to purge from my system.