After my parents got divorced, I had to go right into public school in the fourth grade. The Steiner school had never really taught me how to read, so it was a rude awakening. I was playing catch-up the whole time.

I did Chekhov's Three Sisters once. Two months in, I remember going, "Human beings shouldn't be forced to do or watch this play every night." It's so dark and so bottomless.

I always go to bed thinking I'm the luckiest guy in the world.

There's a logic to dreams that doesn't necessarily follow linear narrative. You don't know why things happen, it's your subconscious pushing you, to give you information.

Normally when you're promoting something a lot, sometimes you get tired.

I didn't really because I know myself well enough to know that if I actually sit down and think about sort of I can spook myself out like anyone, you know? It's sort of like you've got to sort of jump out of the airplane when you're skydiving. If you spend 20 minutes sitting on the lip you probably won't do it.

When I was 13, I kind of got into the punk scene. I realized it was easier to wear a pair of combat boots and jeans and a beat-up T-shirt. I think of it as a uniform: Ya know, if you're a Maytag man, you put on your bow tie. I still have T-shirts from when I was that age.