In the first 33 years of my life which is up until I climbed Everest, I was a very restless and slightly unhappy sort of person. I really didn’t have a great deal of social life, but I’d become very interested in adventurous activities. Perhaps, I was, in some respects something of a loner. But after I got married, that certainly changed my life very considerably, indeed. I found that it was possible to mix having a family with continuing on with adventurous activities, but I think a great deal of that was having a suitable wife. My wife was very, long-suffering. She knew that there were certain things I wanted to do and she was happy that I should do them. She was prepared to put up with considerable periods of being alone with the kids. She, was marvelous, so it made it possible for me to do the things that I wanted to do as well.

I would be able to shoot even more if I didn’t have the promotion and all these kinds of things to do. I would do it like Fassbinder — seven films a year — if I could. Making films is a pleasure for me.

I prefer not to compartmentalize my life.

It is possible to be a good scientist, a good mother and have a family and even bake a cake.

Carrie helped me keep to a strict rhythm, but all the essays took shape in very idiosyncratic ways.

I wrote while listening to Caribou, Kamasi Washington, Frank Ocean, Mitski. Towards the end, a lot of Talk Talk.

You have kids and you’re forced to remember that time actually extends. The world extends, policy extends, stakes extend past your own life.

I worked as an editor until I joined the New Yorker , and so I’m an extremely tough self-editor. I also love being edited. I love a hard edit. It’s a privilege to be edited hard.

I act like a hopeful person, but I think that hope is based on having zero expectations.

As a writer, the only thing that you can guarantee yourself pleasure and challenge from is inside your own writing process.