There Are Poets And There Are Grownups.

Art Is A Marriage Of The Conscious And The Unconscious.

We Are In A Period Of Such Individualism That One No Longer Speaks Of Disciples; One Speaks Of Thieves.

Film Will Only Became An Art When Its Materials Are As Inexpensive As Pencil And Paper.

What Uniform Can I Wear To Hide My Heavy Heart? It Is Too Heavy. It Will Always Show.

Alas! I Do Not Believe That Inspiration Falls From Heaven. Think It Rather The Result Of A Profound Indolence.