No form of art goes beyond ordinary consciousness as film does, straight to our emotions, deep into the twilight room of the soul.

I could always live in my art but never in my life

Artistic license sneered through the thin fabric.

I write scripts to serve as skeletons awaiting the flesh and sinew of images.

I know, of course, that by using film we can bring in other previously unknown worlds, realities beyond reality.

I 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.

I have always had the ability to attach my demons to my chariot.