"Early in our marriage my husband gave me The Manuscript Books of Emily Dickinson, edited by R.W. Franklin and published by Harvard University Press. What an amazement to see her poems in her own hand, intact in their radical, astonished beauty without the many editorial interventions made after her death which silently “corrected” and altered her grammar, idiosyncratic capitalization, punctuation, and much else. I could even see the alternate word-choices she left on the page—that feeling of the mind in motion. Recently, New Directions published The Gorgeous Nothings, which beautifully reproduces her late envelope writings and includes as well a photo of the small pencil she carried in the pocket of her dress—another book to treasure"

"The third one I would have to say is The Goonies. [giggles] What isn’t there about it to love? Trying to find a treasure to save your parents when you’re seeing them struggle — which f**king kid wouldn’t understand that or wanna do that, you know? [On who she identified with:] I think it was Sean Astin’s character, the little dreamer. That monologue when they’re all on the well and getting ready to go up and he’s like, “Chester Copperpot!” My sisters and I get together and we drink wine and we watch The Goonies and we quote it… “The next time we see sky, it’ll be in another town!” I love The Goonies."

"I remember one time, Robert Altman asked me what I thought the greatest movie that I had ever seen was, and I said Citizen Kane. Bob correctly said “Oh bulls–t, everybody says [in mocking voice] ‘Citizen Kane, Citizen Kane.’ Do you really feel that?” And I went, “No, not really.” [laughs] He said, “Give me an honest answer,” and I said Treasure of Sierra Madre. He thought for a minute and he said, “I can’t believe you said that. That is, for my money, the most perfect film ever made.” And I said “Why?” He said it was because “There’s not one frame that I would cut from it, or one frame I would add to it.”"

"“Is there a better, cleaner, more streamlined, and quintessentially American tale? The scope and scale of Gatsby’s world draws me back again and again. I plant my flag in the hard soil of enduring and impossible love. The American Dream is a form of impossible love, is it not? You grasp at it, you claw your way toward it, you compromise yourself to ascend the steps of the temple, but the treasure inside is made of nothing—a silvery thread of faith, thought, and hope. Seize it and it will disintegrate in your palm. Gatsby is the most vivid and surprising romantic figurehead of our modern age: proof that the wanting IS the having. Fin.”"