People think they know all these things about other people, and if you ask them why they think they know that, it'd be hard for them to be convincing.

I don't really like New York better than Portland. It's just a different place.

I went walking around the city some more, people watching with a cold, blank stare. And I saw your face in everyone, I swear.

The devil's script sells you the heart of a blackbird.

A lot of people are kind of depressed. I'm happy some of the time, and some of the time I'm not.

Somewhere where people aren't so mad would be nice, but I don't know if there is anywhere like that.

I liked the idea of a self-contained, endless pursuit of perfection. But I have a problem with perfection. I don't think perfection is very artful. But there's something I liked about the image of a skater going in this endless twisted circle that doesn't have any real endpoint. So the object is not to stop or arrive anywhere; it's just to make this thing as beautiful as they can.