I'm pretty critical of myself as far as reaching some sort of perfect bull's-eye or target that I'm aiming for.

When I was really young, my mom enrolled me in dance classes. "Mom, I'm too young to dance," I told her. She kind of forced me, but I ended up loving it, and after the first lesson I came back and said, "Come on, Mom, I'll show you the box step." That introduced me not just to dancing but also to working with someone without having a goal.

I love seeing somebody act real earnest and serious, like Jackie Gleason. He makes me laugh because he reflects back to me my own serious-mindedness and how ridiculous it all is. It's always easier to see somebody else in that position than yourself, and you laugh. It's like the classic slipping on the banana peel, or someone getting hit by a pie in the face. Why do those things make us laugh? Is it from relief, like: Thank God it wasn't me? Or is it something else: I'm being very serious now. I'm pontificating earnestly and solemnly about-POW! PIE IN THE FACE! The bust-up of certainty.

I'd maybe done about 12 movies when I decided that this was what I was going to do.

I had a great '70s. I survived it, and that's always good news.

Sobriety and health is the greatest thing.

Sometimes you feel you're making something really special and when it comes out you might still feel that way but for some reason it doesn't get the audience. So many things have to come together to get a creatively successful and financially successful film.