The Only Place Where You Can Be

Objects And Their Functions No Longer Had Any Significance. All I Perceived Was Perception Itself, The Hell Of Forms And Figures Devoid Of Human Emotion And Detached From The Reality Of My Unreal Environment. I Was An Instrument In A Virtual World That Constantly Renewed Its Own Meaningless Image In A Living World That Was Itself Perceived Outside Of Nature. And Since The Appearance Of Things Was No Longer Definitive But Limitless, This Paradisiacal Awareness Freed Me From The Reality External To Myself. The Fire And The Rose, As It Were, Became One.

A Good Opening And A Good Ending Make For A Good Film Provided They Come Close Together.

It Is Only When I Am Doing My Work That I Feel Truly Alive.

God May Not Play Dice But He Enjoys A Good Round Of Trivial Pursuit Every Now And Again.

Realism Is A Bad Word. In A Sense Everything Is Realistic. I See No Line Between The Imaginary And The Real.