I always give money to a sidewalk con if the story is a good one, even if I don't believe a word of it. Art deserves to get paid.

Like a four-sided porch I'm open to all winds.

I've always assumed it to be an absolute requirement for being a writer: to find all emotions and the sources of all behaviors somewhere within yourself.

Redheaded Peckerwood, which unerringly walks the fine line between fiction and nonfiction, is a disturbingly beautiful narrative about unfathomable violence and its place on the land

Subjectivity is my middle name, a trick memory is my pack mule, and self-contradiction is my trusty old jackknife.

Unlike a bow and arrow, a camera by its nature ensures that some kind of target will always be hit, if not necessarily the intended target nor in the intended way.

New York has no truck with the past. It expels its dead.

I realize that books are not the entire world, even if they sometimes seem to contain it. But I need the stupid things.

I realised that although I was fascinated with America, its history and culture, I was not interested in becoming American.

I try to take pictures on their own terms, considering the historical and social context from which they emerge.

When I was a child I did engage in an arduous struggle to pass: learning English, getting rid of my accent, becoming conversant with the culture in all its large and small aspects.

My people, we stay indoors. We have keyboards. We have darkness.

World knows I am pathetic in remembering dates. I really wonder how I perfectly remember all the dates on which we met

But inner experience is only one source of human knowledge.

I enjoy working on a movie that lets your imagination run wild, it's great to be a part of and watch.

Words as to the inner emotions do not come readily to me, for I have led an isolated life mentally and spiritually.

If I could be a country music star, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I'd hit the road and just jam out.

I'd like to start a family, but you have to have a date first.

Love is an act of faith, not an exchange

Facts are stupid things — stubborn things, I should say.

If you think about it long enough, you'll see that it's obvious.