The Clash, in particular, transcends any category.

A movie is a miracle, even if it turns out to be a disappointment.

The first time I learned I could sell myself was when I convinced a wealthy American family to give me a job as a nanny. Childcare. Totally unqualified. But I learned to be ready for anything. And that I can adapt. That I can become the best diaper changer.

I said [to my mom], "I want to go to the parachute regiment." She said, "Whew, that's tough. But okay, I understand."

If you are the leader, you don't have the right to say things like "Ugh, didn't eat this week I was so busy." "Haven't slept." I look sideways at those signs of bravado, which are intended to make one feel that the person is working so hard. I don't think that way.

In the steel-and-glass society that we live in, the value system would be that the lawyer, with the Mercedes and the fine suit and the Ivy League education, was more valued than the minority without the education. But on the island, the rules are changed. It's the person who can make a fire or who can make friends. A kind human soul is valued.

One of the wonderful things about Portlandia - and I'm not just blowing smoke, although I can blow smoke, but I'm not - is that there is an expansive feeling to each segment. It's not reductive. It doesn't seem like sketch comedy.