All things are possible, except skiing through a revolving door.

My luck is getting worse and worse. Last night, for instance, I was mugged by a quaker.

Abysmal vermin that I am, I couldn't of course tell her that it was her incredible mother that I wanted to see again… I knew only as I drove through the cold, night autumn air that somewhere Freud, Sophocles and Eugene O’Neill were laughing.

One of the interesting things is, the most gifted people, the biggest people, have no problem taking small roles.

I wish my parents had raised me in Manhattan because I think it's the greatest thing you can do for a kid is to raise them in New York City. I can see this with my own children.

It seems to me that making escapist films might be a better service to people than making intellectual ones and making films that deal with issues. It might be better to just make escapist comedies that don't touch on any issues. The people just get a cool lemonade, and then they go out refreshed, they enjoy themselves, they forget how awful things are and it helps them - it strengthens them to get through the day.

For some reason I'm more appreciated in France than I am back home. The subtitles must be incredibly good.