Limbo is the place. In Limbo one has natural happiness without the beatific vision; no harps; no communal order; but wine and conversation and imperfect, various humanity. Limbo for the unbaptized, for the pious heathen, the sincere sceptic.

After all, damn it, what does being in love mean if you can't trust a person.

I think there's almost nothing I can't excuse except perhaps worshiping graven images. That seems to be idiotic.

The anguished suspense of watching the lips you hunger for, framing the words, the death sentence, of sheer triteness!

Where can we hide in fair weather, we orphans of the storm?

I've always had two principles throughout all my life in motion-pictures: never do before the camera what you would not do at home and never do at home what you would not do before the camera.

If politicians and scientists were lazier, how much happier we should all be