Everyone has his reasons.

I believe that perfection handicaps cinema.

Is it possible to succeed without any act of betrayal?

A Director Makes Only One Movie in His Life. Then He Breaks It Into Pieces and Makes It Again.

Nature is millions of things. And there are millions of ways of understanding its preoccupations.

All technical refinements discourage me. Perfect photography, larger screens, hi-fi sound, all make it possible for mediocrities slavishly to reproduce nature; and this reproduction bores me. What interests me is the interpretation of life by an artist. The personality of the film maker interests me more than the copy of an object.

The awful thing about life is this: everyone has their reasons.