[...] I've come to the conclusion that the artist can not justify life or come up with a cogent reason as to why life is meaningful, but the artist can provide you with a cold glass of water on a hot day.

I never thought I was doing anyone a favour by bringing children into the world. With people as cruel to each other as they are, it's a terrible proposition. The best of lives are sad and tragic. The best of them. My general conclusion is that it's not a nice thing to do. The world doesn't need it. The kid doesn't need it.

It's a wonderful thing to be able to create your own world whenever you want to.

I never have an alter ego in the movies. That's a fiction that the press has made up over the years, and it's fun to write that. It gives them something to write.

I feel that life is divided into the horrible and the miserable. That's the two categories. The horrible are like, I don't know, terminal cases, you know, and blind people, crippled. I don't know how they get through life. It's amazing to me. And the miserable is everyone else. So you should be thankful that you're miserable, because that's very lucky, to be miserable.

Sentence structure is innate, but whining is acquired.

"Boy, the food at this place is really terrible." The other one says, "Yeah, I know; and such small portions." Well, that's essentially how I feel about life - full of loneliness, and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness, and it's all over much too quickly.