Her eyes hold the pale moon in them, the way a still pond holds stars.
One way an author dies a little each day is when his books go out of print.
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.
I like to tell stories that have beginnings, middles and ends.
When you feel concentrated within the intensity of making paintings, you know exactly what you are doing.
Blade Runner is a rare science fiction movie so full of material that pages can be written about it without scratching the surface. A review like this can provide little more than an overview. A detailed exploration of the movie, its style, and its mysteries requires dedication that only someone immersed in Blade Runner lore can provide.
Novels can fill in the spaces about what that emotional resonance is.