“The last day of your life is still going to be a day.”

I’m trying to chill it and find an equilibrium and a balance to my work.

As barbaric is we are, it’s a miracle we haven’t blown ourselves off the face of the earth so far.

You know, these month – or two-month-long endeavors that millions of dollars are based on.

In the film business, it’s basically honor among thieves.

I grew up in the Bronx. I’m into rap music.

I’m a lapsed Buddhist like I’m a lapsed Catholic. I take it to a point.

How you look to help other people, and how you get out of this ‘I, me, mine’ type of thing.

The actors that I love to work with, they’re hard on me. They’re pushing me.

I don’t want to live anywhere where I’m breathing two million cars’ fumes and paying a zillion dollars for the right to be totally hassled.

I direct, and I make movies I can’t finance. I can’t raise money. I can’t sell anything. I make things.

I’m not a big fan of talking about dying. And then I make a movie where I kill everybody.

I don’t need to push myself. I don’t need to sharpen my own knife and slit my throat.

I don’t have a problem with Werner Herzog.

I’m living in a real postmodern time – every single thing sings to you to tell you it’s started, it’s stopped, you’ve got a message, you didn’t get a message.

Most filmmaking is about shaking hands and just starting.

And get off your spot and take that knowledge you have not to fix yourself into a place but to keep going.

You renew yourself every day. Sometimes you’re successful, sometimes your not, but it’s the average that counts.

I should, many a good day, have blown my brains out, but for the recollection that it would have given pleasure to my mother-in-law.

I like breakfast-time better than any other moment in the day. No dust has settled on one’s mind then, and it presents a clear mirror to the rays of things.

Certain is it that there is no kind of affection so purely angelic as of a father to a daughter. In love to our wives there is desire; to our sons, ambition, but to our daughters there is something which there are no words to express.

A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty Is worth a whole eternity in bondage.

How could you live each day knowing that you were simply whiling away the days until your own death?

I will never, ever regret the things I’ve done. Because most days, all you have are places in your memory that you can go to.

I awoke one day to find myself famous.