OK, so my parents were married in 1955 and my mom knew my dad was gay and my dad knew he was gay and so I was, like, 'Why in the heck did you get married?' Like, what was going on? What was that time? It's like this crazy paradox that my whole life is based on, or my family's based on. So I spent a lot of time trying to understand '55.

No one leaves the edit room thinking, 'Yeah, I nailed that one!' Everyone I know goes into their first premiere or their first screening thinking, 'I screwed up so bad. I'm sorry, I messed up.' It's just a real common feeling.

To me, sadness and humor aren't disrelated and humor is the best tool I've had against the sadness in my life.

Grief and memory go together. After someone dies, that's what you're left with. And the memories are so slippery yet so rich.

Life is too short for a half-rack.

Humans are vulnerable, messy little animals and that's normal. And all I want to do is make a space for that in my films.

There is a drunkenness to grief, which is good.