The way that I work is that I try to work in metaphors, and you can't write a metaphor unless you know where you're going, so I always think about the future.

I just have a different impression of the human race. I think we're really resilient. I think there are a lot of cynical people out there right now, and probably for good reason. But I think that ever cynic is really a damaged romantic, and they really, really, really want things to be good. And if that's the case, I don't need to tell a story that says, "Humanity, look what you've done. Now you can't go out. There's no sun. Look how you've wrecked the world." That's not me. That's not my job.

You realize that everything is a moving budget, and sometimes you've got to borrow from Peter to pay Paul, to make it happen.

It's so funny because, when the other world was being hatched and conceived, I just kept hearing, "Don't do that! That's a huge mistake! People love your characters. Why go to these new ones?" And I was like, "No, we can do this! I'm invested. Why wouldn't they be?"

I want to feel that my characters evolved into a place that they deserved, that was sometimes unexpected, but where I would feel satiated that logically they have come to a conclusion that makes me feel satisfied.

The whole message of the piece was that possessions are transient. You don't know if you are going to be able to have time with somebody, so you better be careful.

Sometimes something you thought wouldn't really be as big as it was blows up into something else.