Time is the only critic without ambition.

Literature was not promulgated by a pale and emasculated critical priesthood singing their litanies in empty churches, nor is it a game for the cloistered elect, the tinhorn mendicants of low calorie despair.

The camera need not be a cold mechanical device. Like the pen, it is as good as the man who uses it. It can be the extension of mind and heart.

He drank too much when he could get it, ate too much when it was there, talked too much all the time.

There's a capacity for appetite... that a whole heaven and earth of cake can't satisfy

I'm back with my own kind of people here now, the bums and drinkers and no goods and it is a fine thing.

Give a critic an inch, he'll write a play.