Fellini is a just a province kid. Rome exists for Fellini, not the other way around.

"He Stopped Loving Her Today" a fascinating book about the making of a record. Really, to be honest, it has some of the best George Jones anecdotes I've ever read, like cocaine psychosis causing this personality called "the Duck."

I just realized that I never look at a painting and ask, 'Is this painting fictional or non-fictional?' It’s just a painting.

So much of our culture is bought and manufactured - not to say great art can't come out of that. Some art is really amazing that is manufactured and sold, like action movies and stuff.

Most of the answers to the world could be answered with our bodies.

I don't think anybody does anything anymore without commenting on why they're doing it or making fun of it as they're doing it.

In memoir, can you really tell the truth about yourself? You're not going to write about your little peccadilloes, like, "I like a finger in my ass during sex." Or whatever it is. You're not going to come out in typical everyday conversation and say that. That's something that's going to be only for a select few.