A beautiful word in the middle of a sentence can sometimes reduce me to tears in an interview, and when I'm reading, too. I've sometimes wondered whether I'm at the point of tears all the time because I use my eyes so much that they're strained and on the verge of tears anyway.

I like to think that at best the interview becomes something like the unaccountable experience of talking to oneself in a mirror.

People tell me I have the best job in the world, which is true, but I also work with some of the best people in the world.

If I want to have a conversation, I can't have a list of questions, because the second question on the list is going to interrupt the conversation.

The art (as opposed to the technology) of reading requires that you develop a beautiful tolerance for incomprehension. The greatest books are the books that you come to understand more deeply with time, with age and with rereading.

I'm often a crier and many things make me cry. I come from a crying family - my mother cries, my grandma used to cry. It was never shameful to cry. My father never told me men don't cry.

She taught you how to be a person who refuses anything but the meaningful.