One night I went over to get some dope from some Hollywood tough guy. After I left, my son Scott, who was only fifteen, went over with a baseball bat to kill him. I was laughing out of one eye and crying out of the other. I thought, Who am I kidding?

I'm here instead of having shoulder surgery. But I'm not sure which is more painful.

I've been lucky. The critics never went out of their way to single me out for doing bad work.

It's a very charming movie about the mob - a real stretch for me.

Unless I love something or hate it, I don't want to deal with it.

What's the difference between sex and love? I have four wives and five kids. I apparently don't know the difference.

Anyone of my generation who tells you he hasn't 'done Brando' is lying.