It's weird. People want you to know that they write. They want you to know they're a musician, rather than making music or making stories. It's the strangest thing.

Fellini is a just a province kid. Rome exists for Fellini, not the other way around.

New York exists for me. Not me for it.

Everybody is so goddamn sure of themselves, it just makes you realize this is the curse of the modern world.

We like something because someone else liked it.

The whole exploitation thing is funny, too. Exploitation is the nature of the world, isn't it?

It's like that where these little anecdotes come through, and I guess that's what I like about books like that [He Stopped Loving Her Today]. Fiction now is so experiential.