I Hope I Never Get So Old

There's Always A Tension In Me Between My Urge To Destroy And My Will To Live... Every Morning I Wake Up With A New Wrath, A New Suspiciousness, A New Desire To Live.

The Individualists Stare Into Each Other's Eyes And Yet Deny The Existence Of Each Other.

We Walk In Circles, So Limited By Our Own Anxieties That We Can No Longer Distinguish Between True And False, Between The Gangster's Whim And The Purest Ideal.

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.

Only Someone Who Is Well Prepared Has The Opportunity To Improvise.