I Spend A Lot Of Time Obsessing

And Why Had Deb's Last Boyfriend Dumped Her? I Dumped Him. Maybe You Didn't French-kiss Him Enough. I Promise You That Wasn't It. Tell Me How Many Times A Day You Kissed, And I'll Say If It Was Enough. Four Hundred. Not Enough.

Don't Wait To Be Sure. Move, Move, Move.

I'm Always The Kind Of Friend Or Girlfriend Who Suggests, When There's Some Cataclysmic Problem In The Relationship, I'm Like, "well, Maybe We Can Come Up With A Creative Activity That Will Help Us Out." I'm Like, "let's Get Out The Pens! Draw A Picture Of How Much You Hate Me!"

It Was A Tiny Sound But It Woke Me Up Because It Was A Human Sound.

So The Recordings Were These Immersive Landscapes, And Yet, Unlike The Performances That Almost No One Would See, I Had A Sense That These Could Live Forever. I Was Just Starting To Get My Head Around The Democratic Aspect Of Art; I Didn't Want To Make Rarefied Things That Were Either Alienatingly Obscure Or Elite And Art-worldy, So A Recording That Anyone Could Buy Was A Great Medium.