I feel that the people I see in the media are sometimes more real than I am, which is utter bullshit.
Never argue with your wife about hostility when she's a certified Freudian.
Writing is finally about one thing: going into a room alone and doing it. Putting words on paper that have never been there in quite that way before. And although you are physically by yourself, the haunting Demon never leaves you, that Demon being the knowledge of your own terrible limitations, your hopeless inadequacy, the impossibility of ever getting it right. No matter how diamond-bright your ideas are dancing in your brain, on paper they are earthbound.
Nobody knows anything. . . . . . Not one person in the entire motion picture field knows for a certainty what's going to work. Every time out it's a guess and, if you're lucky, an educated one.
Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.
A good writer is not someone who knows how to write- but how to rewrite
Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches.
My own perception was that although it kind of sucks to be stuck in a contract you signed a long time ago, when you're having success, it gives you some leverage.
The devil lives in our mistakes, the lord lives in our rights. Who lives in our ignorance, and who wins after all?
Valentine's Day: the holiday that reminds you that if you don't have a special someone, you're alone.
You know, when you're right, that's all you get to be.