Walk really, really carefully. It's not complicated, but if you mess up, you'll die, so pay attention.

All right. Normal rules apply." "Right." The man walked off, leaving us. "What are the normal rules?" I asked. "He walks away and has a tea break and doesn't ask any questions.

One of them hung a pink bra from our lighting fixture. I left it there. It was a nice bra

When I worked in theater, I was always writing things on Post-it Notes and sticking them on screens or desks. Twitter has given me a way of continuing to post those notes, only a lot of other people see them, too.

Proximity doesn't breed familiarity.

Spicy food and I have a close relationship—an obsessive one, in fact. If it’s spicy, I want it. I want to sweat and shake and go half blind from the searing pain . . . which, now that I put it that way, seems really suggestive. But spicy stuff is addictive. That’s a known fact of science.

People always say they can't do things, that they're impossible. They just haven't been creative enough.