Instead of just looking back, whiplash-style, I can assume there's something else coming. Time just folds over itself, like origami.

I like being swept up in weather and observing it as something beautiful and giant. It makes you feel so minute. The only thing as big as that are your thoughts about it, which can expand exponentially while your physical self is just trapped. It's a pretty awesome feeling, in the original sense of the word.

I had a guitar leaning against the wall and I'd squint at it. It was almost like a dog that had been kicked - I didn't think I had anything to offer it.

All the girls who have photos of them at parties, like, "Woo!" - that's what someone's going to see of their grandma.

A year's a long time, but it also flickers past in no time at all.

I was in a crazy, private, awesome bubble again, and that's when I started to write.

So, I'm on Sesame Street, walking around with all these monsters, Elmo and his buddies, a whole bunch of chickens, a whole bunch of penguins and a number four dancing about. It was just pure joy, simple, ridiculous fun, stupid joy. There's no irony. Sesame Street is just a crazy great place to be.