Life is divided into the horrible and the miserable.

Manute Bol is so skinny they save money on road trips. They just fax him from city to city.

The movie is usually, for me, something organic that grows all the time. I sit home and write it, and I'm in an isolated, four-walled environment, and I don't know what's going on. I just write it, and it's appearing in my head in some idealized way where every single moment works, and every little thing is perfect, because it's in my head.

I don't why whatever works and whatever doesn't. You just make the film that you enjoy making at the time, and you think there's a good chance that people might enjoy the story. You're surprised pleasantly when they do. It's just luck.

Maybe the poets are right. Maybe love is the only answer.

I don't like to reminisce much, and my walls don't have photographs of me and the actors I was with, or any of that stuff... I try and keep that disciplined, and just work. There are so many traps you can get into, and looking back on your own work is certainly one of them.

I don't think my parents liked me. They put a live teddy bear in my crib.