The past is weird. I mean, does it really exist ? It feels like it exists, but where is it ? And if it did exists, but doesn’t now, then where did it go ?

You never know who it's going to be, or what they'll bring, but whatever it is, it's always exactly what is needed.

Even though I was making documentaries, my films had fictional elements to them. I think I like blurring those distinctions because so much of what we see on television purports to be the truth, but it's often largely imaginary - or wishful thinking, or any number of less honorable things.

With the ancient is wisdom; and in length of days understanding.

Life is evanescent, but left to itself it rarely fails to offer some consolation.

It takes a long time to write a book. I'm not going to spend that much time trying to deliver a message. The reason I do it is because I want to understand something myself. It's not a delivery device, it's an inquiry device. Didactic fiction to my mind never works. It backfires.

No matter how much bullying they inflict on my body, as long as I have this hope, I can endure any pain.