[her] mind blackens. The blackness is not a thought, but if it could be pressed into a thought, if a chemical from a dropper could be dripped onto it causing its color and essence to become visible, it would take the shape of this sentence: Why does no one want me?

I got a flue shot and now my chimney works perfectly.

Comedy makes you humble. Because there are so many opportunities to miss, and strike out.

I hope people find my movies funny and will watch them years from now. And, in terms of writing, I hope that something remains that will not seem old-fashioned, that will still have a ­vibrancy to it 50 years from now.

... you're nuts but you're welcome here.

It's funny that some ideas start with a little "What if?" and then suddenly you're spending a million dollars to shoot the scene and hoping that it works.

How is it possible to miss a woman whom you kept at a distance, so that when she was gone you would not miss her?