Ultimately what I end up writing about is helplessness and the flipside of that, empowerment.

Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping... waiting... and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us... guides us. Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love... the clarity of hatred... the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead.

I loved teaching and I did a lot of work as a teacher's assistant in college, and my favorite experience was basically getting a laugh from a bunch of people because they had just understood something. Because I had shown them something they hadn't seen before, and it amused them. That's the combo platter. That's a perfect moment.

Horror movies don't exist unless you go and see them, and people always will.

The way a musical can make us feel is unlike anything else, in song and particularly in dance. I think people fly through plate-glass windows when they get shot because movies don't have dance scenes any more. This is what we do instead.

When you're making a film, you have an obligation to fill the frame with life.

I think [there's] the opportunity for - I almost said President Clinton, and soon I will - but for Hillary Clinton to address that, and for the public sphere to address that in a way that they haven't. We started a conversation in the last few years on race that we desperately needed to have.