I Think I Have Made Just One

I Am Living Permanently In My Dream, From Which I Make Brief Forays Into Reality.

Film As Dream, Film As Music. No Form Of Art Goes Beyond Ordinary Consciousness As Film Does, Straight To Our Emotions, Deep Into The Twilight Room Of The Soul. A Little Twitch In Our Optic Nerve, A Shock Effect: Twenty-four Illuminated Frames A Second, Darkness In Between, The Optic Nerve Incapable Of Registering Darkness.

Death: Do You Never Stop Questioning? Antonius Block: No. I Never Stop.

I Was A Very Unpleasant Young Man. If I Met The Young Ingmar Today I'd Say, 'you're Very Talented And I'll Try To Help You, But I Don't Want Anything Else To Do With You.

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.