Tavie

“The Kids in the Hall were doing everything pretty much right in my book. Their show hung together, was distinctive, really likable, and you got to know them even while they were playing stridently strange characters. Plus they had a number of homes for the show, all in off-brand time slots and locales—right where it belonged. This made me envious and mad. Not at the guys—I liked them all—but at Canada in general. Somehow they were able to bring Canadian niceness to the brain-warping comic mayhem. How much maple syrup do I have to drink to become that nonthreatening? There isn’t enough in the world.”
― Bob Odenkirk, Comedy Comedy Comedy Drama

“The following weekend, Eric called my family and asked if we could come over to his apartment. When we got there, there was a brand-new synthesizer keyboard for me with a bow on it. And Robin Williams. I didn’t know until that moment that Robin Williams was to play the part of the King of the Moon. I was a huge fan of Mork & Mindy and I felt weak with happiness to get to be in his presence. I spent the day with Robin and Eric. Robin programmed himself doing different voices on all the effects keys, so I could play whole songs entirely in his voice. That day we walked around Rome, ate gelato, and went to the Vatican and St. Peter’s Square while Robin did impressions of the Pope and kept me laughing all day. From that day forward, both Eric and Robin seemed to have an agenda to make light moments for me. When it was possible, when the world around us wasn’t exploding and crumbling and freezing, they made up games for me, sang songs, and treated the set as a playground.”
― Sarah Polley, Run Towards the Danger: Confrontations with a Body of Memory

“with his lumpish sow dæmon sprawled on the ground beside him, gnawing a turnip.”
― Philip Pullman, The Secret Commonwealth

“You scrape yourself out of bed, exhausted from all you tried to do over the weekend, from trying to waste not so much as a quarter of an hour of the two days allotted for your real life. The life you were supposed to have is lived in tiny slices of time between each night’s dinner and sleep, and in those two precious days you pay for by working the other five for someone else’s dreams.”
― Lori Berhon, Under the Bus