We’re not naked, we’re skyclad!
Buttercup's mother whirled on him. 'Did you forget to pay your taxes?' (This was after taxes. But everything is after taxes. Taxes were here even before stew. )
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.
There are no shortcuts because there is no end
There is power in controlling something that can do so much damage - in controlling something, period.
It's just incredible. When you're French, coming from a non-English language country, you don't even dream about Oscar recognition or nominations. It's just beyond the dream. It's something very, very special and unique. It's the highest recognition any filmmaker could dream of
No matter if the path is tough, and your nights are long,So long as your cause is noble and your mind is strong.