One of the best things about directing movies, as opposed to merely writing them, is that there's no confusion about who's to blame: You are.

Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address.

Another thing you end up doing when you get older, is you spend so much time sort of trying desperately to keep from just looking just a little older. You're just constantly putting stuff on your face and having things removed from yourself and opening up copies of "Vogue" so that you can find new ways to throw whatever money you've managed to save into the arms of some doctor who has just come up with a new way of lasering your face that feels like electroshock and all these things.

That's another thing about being a certain age that I've noticed: I try as much as possible not to look in the mirror.

When something like this happens, you suddenly have no sense of reality at all. You have lost a piece of your past. The infidelity itself is small potatoes compared to the low-level brain damage that results when a whole chunk of your life turns out to have been completely different from what you thought it was. It becomes impossible to look back at anything that's happened ... without wondering what was really going on.

Sometimes I believe that some people are better at love than others, and sometimes I believe that everyone is faking it.

In the way that women forget the pain of childbirth, men forget that they cry in movies.