First, I Write Down All I Know

Sometimes I Go For Days Without Speaking To A Soul. I Think, “i Should Make That Call", But I Put It Off. Because There’s Something Pleasurable About Not Talking. But Then I Love Talking, So It’s Not That. But Sometimes It Can Be Nice. It’s Not Like I Sit Here Philosophizing, Because I’ve No Talent For That. It’s Just This Thing About Silence That’s So Wonderful.

We Make Each Other Alive; It Doesn’t Make A Difference If It Hurts.

No Other Art-medium–neither Painting Nor Poetry–can Communicate The Specific Quality Of The Dream As Well As The Film Can. When The Lights Go Down In The Cinema And This White Shining Point Opens Up For Us, Our Gaze Stops Flitting Hither And Thither, Settles And Becomes Quite Steady. We Just Sit There, Letting The Images Flow Out Over Us. Our Will Ceases To Function. We Lose Our Ability To Sort Things Out And Fix Them In Their Proper Places. We're Drawn Into A Course Of Events–we're Participants In A Dream. And Manufacturing Dreams, That's A Juicy Business.

To Humiliate And Be Humiliated, I Think, Is A Crucial Element In Our Whole Social Structure. It's Not Only The Artist I'm Sorry For. It's Just That I Know Exactly Where He Feels Most Humiliated.

My Basic View Of Things Is - Not To Have Any Basic View Of Things. From Having Been Exceedingly Dogmatic, My Views On Life Have Gradually Dissolved. They Don't Exist Any Longer.