I don't have a great intellect, and I can't compete with people who do. I feel certain things. And all I know, and all I can do, is what I feel.

Failure's a natural part of life.

I've permitted myself to learn and to fail with some regularity. And that is probably the one thing I was given, and that I'm still grateful for.

And may the best of you - for it will only be the best of you, and even then only in the rarest and briefest moments - succeed in framing that most basic of questions, 'how do we live?'

Nothing you do particularly matters. But I'm not sure that's a great excuse for doing it poorly.

I don't have a saviour or a royal family.

Art is not disposable. If you want it, you have to hold it and smell it and touch it and read the credits and enjoy it and put it on your wall.

Imagine how asleep or utterly unperceptive and clueless you would have to be not to see yourself as absurd for the most part.

I'd hate to see any film I'm involved in fail, especially artistically but also business-wise.

I think 1973 was the nadir of fashion. When you watch the coverage from that era, you're struck by the astonishing ugliness of the clothes.

It's not a gift of mine, but one given to me, to be able to criticise myself and not be crushed, by myself or by others.

oh my soul...be prepared for him who knows how to ask questions

Consider--We are bornNot with purpose, But with potential.

It is the desire of the good people of the whole country that sectionalism as a factor in our politics should disappear.

To be sure, theory is useful. But without warmth of heart and without love it bruises the very ones it claims to save.

There is not an enemy so stout, as to storm and take the fortress of the mind, Unless its infirmity turn traitor, and Fear unbar the gates.

You okay?" he asked me. I nodded, unable to say anything that would really cover how I felt. "Then get out of the way." "Huh?" "Your legs. Please

There are times when you simply have to pose your model. The difference is in the kind of posing. It can be honest and dishonest, interesting and as wooden as a cigar store Indian.

Thinking of the universe as a computer is controversial.

It amazes me, how many words there are spoken, how many thoughts...yet each speaks freshly to me each time as if they were never once spoken before.

Talking to my wife, we stare at each other, saying, 'How is this happening? Why is this happening? Why now?' It's nothing I ever aspired to.