Probably, on some subconscious level, I was motivated by not wanting to spoon-feed any similar flavors.

I said I'd stop for a year, which was inconceivable to me and everyone around me. It seemed like so long. But then, after that year, I looked up and I still hadn't gotten my land legs back at all.

I find it pretty fascinating how humans keep gravitating towards these giant centers. I went to this walled medieval village in France this year, and it was truly the most crazy, beautiful, bizarre place I've ever been.

I think I prefer the constant renewal. It's almost like sandpapering down any details or any contour of familiarities.

You can get anywhere on earth by falling asleep.

I love storms and how the whole house shakes. When I was a kid, there would be lots of thunder and lightning storms, and they would knock the electricity out. We had this oil lantern that had been in my grandfather's homestead at the turn of the century, before there even was electricity. He'd bring it down off the top shelf, and we'd always play cards.

I think that's more a reflection of the fact I've never been a student of any particular school of writing, or even listening.