What are you waiting for in order to give up?

The universal view melts things into a blur.

There is no other world. Nor even this one. What, then, is there? The inner smile provoked in us by the patent nonexistence of both.

Do I look like someone who has something to do here on earth?' —That's what I'd like to answer the busybodies who inquire into my activities.

You are done for - a living dead man - not when you stop loving but stop hating. Hatred preserves: in it, in its chemistry, resides the mystery of life.

Our first intuitions are the true ones.

The fact that life has no meaning is a reason to live - moreover, the only one.

Impossible to spend sleepless nights and accomplish anything: if, in my youth, my parents had not financed my insomnias, I should surely have killed myself.

The aphorism is cultivated only by those who have known fear in the midst of words, that fear of collapsing with all the words.

The multiplication of our kind borders on the obscene; the duty to love them, on the preposterous.

Only optimists commit suicide, optimists who no longer succeed at being optimists. The others, having no reason to live, why would they have any to die?

Empty space is never-wasted space. Wasted space is any space that has art in it.

Leo couldnt deliver Mr. Martin Scorsese his Oscar with The Aviator, but I will go on record to say I will do so in The Departed.

I abjure with a sincere heart and unfeigned faith, I curse and detest the said errors and heresies, and generally all and every error and sect contrary to the Holy Catholic Church.

As our hearts become pure, our vision becomes clearer.

The greatest thing to be achieved in advertising, in my opinion, is believability, and nothing is more believable than the product itself.

If the land of make believe is inside your heart it will never leave.

I am a man of vehement disposition, with violent enthusiasms, and extreme immoderation in all my passions.

My worst fear is that I'll end up living in some run-down duplex on Wilshire wearing pants hiked up to my nipples and muttering under my breath.

Because my hands are rough and wrinkley, they are my least favourite feature. An ex-boyfriend used to call them 'Freddy Kreuger' fingers.