In wrestling, people just throw each other around, possibly actually bleed, and are still friends in the locker room afterwards. But there's a real glee - a feeling goes up in the arena, especially on non-TV days. If it's just people in a room and somebody starts to bleed, that's very exciting.

People will complain that they don't want to wait around for lightning to strike, but why not? If you invest yourself in chance, the potential for disappointment is pretty low.

It's hard always to say what it is one likes about a place, for me. I feel it.

I grew up around some people whose parents toured a lot: tough on the marriage, tough on the kids.

I always want to try and see what the appeal is in anything. It's the healthiest and most honest approach.

I think grief is a huge subject; it's one of the things that everybody is going to confront in one way or another. There's been a lot of books written about how Americans have an odd way of trying to defer grief or minimize the need to grieve. People used to have a lot more ritual grief in their lives. For the most part, we think of it as a strictly temporal process: you grieve for a time and then you're over [it], but it's also a spatial process. It travels across a map.

If you're standing in the middle of a ring and you're playing the villain, and everyone is booing and throwing things at you, that's real.