Throughout human history, the apostles of purity, those who have claimed to possess a total explanation, have wrought havoc among mere mixed-up human beings.

Books choose their authors; the act of creation is not entirely a rational and conscious one.

Who what am I? My answer: I am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all I have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. I am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world affected was affected by mine. I am anything that happens after I’ve gone which would not have happened if I had not come. Nor am I particularly exceptional in this matter; each "I", every one of the now-six-hundred-million-plus of us, contains a similar multitude. I repeat for the last time: to understand me, you’ll have to swallow the world.

If the creative artist worries if he will still be free tomorrow, then he will not be free today.

The way you write a screenplay is that you close your eyes and run the movie in your head and then you write it down.

Shame is like everything else; live with it for long enough and it becomes part of the furniture.

Originality is dangerous. It challenges, questions, overturns assumptions, unsettles moral codes.