I Didn't Know He Was

We Live In Far Too Permissive A Society. Never Before Has Pornography Been This Rampant. And Those Films Are So Badly Lit!

If You Don't Fail Now And Again, It's A Sign You're Playing It Safe.

That’s One Of The Nice Things About Writing, Or Any Art; If The Thing’s Real, It Just Lives. All The Attendant Hoopla About It, The Success Over It Or The Critical Rejection—none Of That Really Matters. In The End, The Thing Will Survive Or Not On Its Own Merits. Not That Immortality Via Art Is Any Big Deal. Truffaut Died, And We All Felt Awful About It, And There Were The Appropriate Eulogies, And His Wonderful Films Live On. But It’s Not Much Help To Truffaut.

I'm In Show Business. I'm Not Like A Poor Factory Worker Who'd Been Laid Off.

I Don't Know Enough To Be Incompetent.