I had an Indian Scout motorcycle during high school, but I never could take it to school. My dad would sneak out at night and pull the spark-plug wires.

Trans Am sales went up 70 percent after Smokey and the Bandit, and I was promised a free car every year for life by the Pontiac president.

I'm paying the third highest alimony and child support in the world. And the only two ahead of me are sheiks.

That's a big responsibility, and the details obsess me. And, also, I no longer feel I have to do the Tonight Show every time I open my mouth. Twenty years ago, I told myself I'd rather direct than act, and it's taken me this long. You lose your passion in acting. You make too many mistakes. Maybe that's why I make so many movies; if you don't like this one, another one's opening on Tuesday. But then I spent six months of my life on 'At Long Last Love,' a picture nobody saw. I enjoyed making it, I learned from it, I grew, but that's too much time out of my life.

You get to a certain age, where you know you can't go over the wall, but I'll never get to the age where I can't go through it.

The audience will always forgive you for being wrong and exciting, but never for being right and dull.

I can tell a young person where the mines are, but he's probably going to step on them anyway.