His life has been lived, so far, within narrow limits and he is quite naïve about most kinds of experience; he fears it and yet is wildly eager for it. To reassure himself, he converts it into epic myth as fast as it happens. He is forever play-acting.

I'm like a book you have to read. A book can't read itself to you. It doesn't even know what it's about. I don't know what I'm about.

I am a camera with its shutter open, quite passive, recording, not thinking.

The paternalist is a sentimentalist at heart, and the sentimentalist is always potentially cruel.

I'll bet Shakespeare compromised himself a lot; anybody who's in the entertainment industry does to some extent.

One should never write down or up to people, but out of yourself.

But now isn’t simply now. Now is also a cold reminder: one whole day later than yesterday, one year later than last year. Every now is labeled with its date, rendering all past nows obsolete, until — later of sooner — perhaps — no, not perhaps — quite certainly: it will come.