I've always been impulsive. My thinking is usually pretty good, but I always seem to do it after I do my talking — by which time I've generally destroyed all basis for further conversation.

I saw my earlier selves as different people, acquaintances I had outgrown. I wondered how I could ever have been some of them.

Life is full of doors that don't open when you knock, equally spaced amid those that open when you don't want them to.

Don't wake me for the end of the world unless it has very good special effects.

The death of an illusion tends to disconcert.

When inspiration is silent reason tires quickly.

That's life: trust and you're betrayed; don't trust and you betray yourself.

There's really nothing quite like someone's wanting you dead to make you want to go on living.

If a building is falling on you, you don't concern yourself with the horn of an approaching car. You deal with the most immediate peril first. That's survival.

To paraphrase Oedipus, Hamlet, Lear, and all those guys, "I wish I had known this some time ago.

Nothing we did in those days has caused a change." "Because of what we did, things remained as they were, rather than getting worse," I told him.

I didn’t answer. We were not buddies. We could not chat about the proximity of our offices, or football, or forgiveness.

My solution to the problem would be to tell the North Vietnamese Communists frankly that they've got to drawn in their horns and stop their aggression or we're going to bomb them into the stone age.

The cinema is little more than a fad. It's canned drama. What audiences really want to see is flesh and blood on the stage.

I am always a beginner. I only try to include different parts of life; the pastoral, the tragic, et cetera.

When chess masters err, ordinary wood pushers tend to derive a measure of satisfaction, if not actual glee.

People trample over flowers, yet only to embrace a cactus.

The process depends on the situation, and I don't think there are any two songs that have gone exactly the same way... well, actually, that's not true.

Smell is the voice of the soul.

No man can run up the natural line of Evolution without coming to Christianity at the top.