New mysteries. New day. Fresh doughnuts.

I don't know why people expect art to make sense. They accept the fact that life doesn't make sense.

A poet could write volumes about diners, because they're so beautiful. They're brightly lit, with chrome and booths and Naugahyde and great waitresses. Now, it might not be so great in the health department, but I think diner food is really worth experiencing periodically.

If a scene isn't honest, it stands out like a sore thumb.

I hear heroin is a very popular drug these days.

My movies are film-paintings - moving portraits captured on celluloid. I'll layer that with sound to create a unique mood -- like if the Mona Lisa opened her mouth, and there would be a wind, and she'd turn back and smile. It would be strange and beautiful.

I like people who, you know, as you go along in life, you know, a thing happens, and people become a seeker. They look for something to give them the path to their full potential. I like them to know about transcendental mediation, but they've got to make up their own mind to take it and use it.