Nothing you do particularly matters. But I'm not sure that's a great excuse for doing it poorly.

I can see how, given a certain degree of sensitivities, proclivities and rage, I could have ended up differently.

I'm more likely to lose my temper on a film set than almost anywhere. Often the level of idiocy is so exalted that it's impossible to comprehend.

And may the best of you - for it will only be the best of you, and even then only in the rarest and briefest moments - succeed in framing that most basic of questions, 'how do we live?'

I think 1973 was the nadir of fashion. When you watch the coverage from that era, you're struck by the astonishing ugliness of the clothes.

Utopia means elsewhere.

Of course it's trivial, but then most things are.