Sometimes I go for days without speaking to a soul. I think, โI should make that call", but I put it off. Because thereโs something pleasurable about not talking. But then I love talking, so itโs not that. But sometimes it can be nice. Itโs not like I sit here philosophizing, because Iโve no talent for that. Itโs just this thing about silence thatโs so wonderful.
Ingmar BergmanI want to be one of the artists in the cathedral on the great plain. I want to make a dragon's head, an angel, a devil - or perhaps a saint - out of stone.
Ingmar BergmanI want to confess as best I can, but my heart is void. The void is a mirror. I see my face and feel loathing and horror. My indifference to men has shut me out. I live now in a world of ghosts, a prisoner in my dreams.
Ingmar BergmanI am conscious about myself and everything, and then suddenly, or slowly, my conscious fades out. Switches off. And it's not existing, and that's a marvelous feeling. That from existing, I am not existing. And at that moment, nothing can happen to me.
Ingmar Bergman