Anything worth knowing cannot be understood by the human mind.

I'd always wanted to be a dramatic. Comedy comes more naturally to me. I can do it with more facility. So I feel more comfortable with it.

I don't respond well to mellow, you know what I mean, I have a tendency to... if I get too mellow, I ripen and then rot.

I usually want to crawl into the ground after I make a film, almost invariably.

I had a mad impulse to throw you down on the lunar surface and commit interstellar perversion with you.

If I had my life to live over, I wish I could be a great pianist or something.

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?