What if nothing exists and we're all in somebody's dream? Or what's worse, what if only that fat guy in the third row exists?

My films are therapy for my debilitating depression. In institutions people weave baskets. I make films.

If I just got up in the morning and had no place to go and was retired or something, I would be sitting there and be thinking, "Gee, what is the purpose of life? Why are we all finite? Why do we get old and die? Is there nothing out there? Why is it so tragic? Why do our loved ones perish? Why do we generate?" Who wants to think about that stuff?

The comedies are not a million laughs on the set. Its business and the dramas are business as well, really. When I'm writing it I struggle more with drama because I started out in comedy.

Honey! Bring down a copy of my will - and an eraser!

The prison psychiatrist asked me if I thought sex was dirty. I told him only when it's done right.

It's all through the actors; I cannot write in that idiom