I've solved the mystery: You have to submit silently. Open up, let go. Let anything penetrate you, even the most painful things. Endure. Bear up. That's the magic key! The text comes by itself, and its meaning shakes the soul. You mustn't let scar tissue form on your wounds; you have to keep ripping them open in order to turn your insides into a marvelous instrument that is capable of anything. All this has its price.

In a way, everything concerning a movie leaves me cold.

I am your fairy tale. Your dream. Your wishes and desires, and I am your thirst and your hunger and your food and your drink.

About 25 years ago, I was in an apartment, and next door, they put on the radio, so I struck the wall with my fist, but they did not put the radio down. I took a tool and banged until I made a hole through the wall. It was like a comedy movie.

I could be with a woman in a bed, for weeks even, and it would seem to me like three seconds. Or 300 years.

Why do I continue making movies? Making movies is better than cleaning toilets.

At sixteen I get drafted. When I read the draft notice, I cry. Not because I'm a coward - I'm not afraid of anyone. But I don't want to kill or be killed.