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I'm drawn to the psychology of really interesting, flawed people.

For better or worse, I am as fascinated with human flaws as anything.

Delusions of grandeur make me feel a lot better about myself.

People say I make strange choices, but they're not strange for me. My sickness is that I'm fascinated by human behavior, by what's underneath the surface, by the worlds inside people.

Sometimes, I look out at nature and I think, 'Everything here is obeying my conjecture.' It's a wonderfully narcissistic feeling.

Like most people, I'm fascinated by characters who are completely flawed personalities, riven by anguish and doubt, and are psychologically suspect.

I have had to work long and hard to eradicate the dangerous delusion that, in a bad position, I could always, or nearly always, conjure up some unexpected combination to extricate me from my difficulties.

All of us want something in life, all of us have flaws, and all of us have strengths. So, I always try to discover those things in a character and then try to expose it in one way or another.

What interests me are the complexities and contradictions and struggles and joys of messy human beings.

I'm a human being who lives a flawed, contradictory life. And I have all sorts of problems and all sorts of successes.