My whole written history is one big lie! I mean, I can't even believe my history.
The photographic image. . . is a message without a code.
Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other. It is as if I had words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip of my words. My language trembles with desire.
The birth of the reader must be at the cost of the death of the Author.
Painting can feign reality without having seen it.
Don't say mourning. It's too psychoanalytic. I'm not mourning. I'm suffering.
. . . language is never innocent.
Was it for this the wild geese spread The gray wing upon every tide; For this that all that blood was shed, For this. Edward Fitzgerald died, And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone, All that delirium of the brave? Romantic Ireland's dead and gone, It's with O'Leary in the grave.
Life in the country teaches one that the really stimulating things are the quiet, natural things, and the really wearisome things are the noisy, unnatural things. It is more exciting to stand still than to dance. Silence is more eloquent than speech. Water is more stimulating than wine. Fresh air is more intoxicating than cigarette smoke. Sunlight is more subtle than electric light. The scent of grass is more luxurious than the most expensive perfume. The slow, simple observations of the peasant are more wise than the most sparkling epigrams of the latest wit.
The speed of a runaway horse counts for nothing.
If we have come up with a creative decision and somebody comes up with another idea, you do have to get into the depths of it and ask: "Is it a better idea? Or is it a different idea?" That can be hard. But that's the type of conversation the director and I will have, or as part of our creative groups. So with that in mind, it's hard to keep a budget in line. It's like in life, if you've ever built anything for the first time you're usually better at it the second time.