Many critics are like woodpeckers, who, instead of enjoying the fruit and shadow of a tree, hop incessantly around the trunk, pecking holes in the bark to discover some little worm or other.
Reality doesn't interest me.
Where is my guilt? I can regret. I can regret that I made the party film, `Triumph of the Will,' in 1934. But I cannot regret that I lived in that time. No anti-Semitic word has ever crossed my lips. I was never anti-Semitic. I did not join the party. So where then is my guilt? You tell me. I have thrown no atomic bombs. I have never betrayed anyone. What am I guilty of?
I want to see, that's all. This is my life. I want to see
I can simply say that I feel spontaneously attracted by everything that is beautiful. . . It comes from the unconscious and not from my knowledge. . . Whatever is purely realistic, slice of life, which is average, quotidian, doesn't interest me. . . I am fascinated by what is beautiful, strong, healthy, what is living. I seek harmony.
They kept asking me over and over again whether I was having a romance with Hitler. Are you Hitler's girlfriend? I laughed and answered the same way each time: No, those are false rumours. I only made documentaries for him.
I was fascinated by the effects that could be achieved by editing. The cutting room became a magic workshop for me.
You can see a lot just by observing.
What is wanted is men of principle, who recognize a higher law than the decision of the majority. The marines and the militia whose bodies were used lately were not men of sense nor of principle; in a high moral sense they were not men at all.
There are two things that men should never weary of, goodness and humility; we get none too much of them in this rough world among cold, proud people.
She was a Jew feeder without a question in the world on that man's first night in Molching. She was an arm reacher, deep into a mattress, to deliver a sketchbook to a teenage girl. (84. 25)