Somewhere, nearby voices filled with dusk, cabs and panhandlers and one drunken girl screeching like a wounded bird - all of it flushed with a warmth and sad beauty I'd never noticed before.
The Boston Tea Party was the work of 1777-era frat boys)
—even in hardened criminals, they were just air pockets lodged under debris at the bottom of an ocean. It might take an earthquake, or you scuba diving down there, sifting through the sludge, but thei...
…deep-diving love, a love that excavates you. It’s something you have to have before you die in order to have lived.
That was how it went sometimes, the English language, when you really needed it, crumbled to clay in your mouth. That’s when all the real things were said.
We're living longer, we social network alone with our , and our depth of feeling gets shallower. Soon it'll be nothing but a tide pool, then a thimble of water, then a .
Vast fortunes did that to people. It took them to the cleaners, cruelly starched and steam-pressed them so all their raw edges, all the dirt and hunger and guileless laughter, were ironed out. Few sur...
The million-dollar marital Band-Aid, never a wise idea.
The body shuts down when it’s too sad, said my dad.
Sovereign. Deadly. Perfect.
Sometimes people surprise the hell outta you. Sometimes they can tear your heart out and turn it to putty, can’t they?
Some people are as fragile as butterflies and sensitive and it’s your responsibility not to destroy them. Just because you can
Never try to change the narrative structure of someone else's story, though you will certainly be tempted to, as you watch those poor souls in school, in life, heading unwittingly down dangerous tange...
My films are just stories, but that’s all we have, the stories we tell others and the stories we tell ourselves. When you talk to the elderly, men and women at the end of their lives, you see that’s w...
Millions of people walked through their lives numb, dying to feel something, to feel alive. To be chosen by Cordova for a film was an opportunity for just that, not simply for fame and fortune, but to...
Man's wobbly little mind isn't equipped for hauling around the great unknowns.
Look at Picasso. O’Neill. Tennessee Williams. Capote. Were these shiny happy people spreading sunshine? No. Only the greatest of personal demons can force you to do powerful work.
Life had been a suit I'd only put on for special occasions. Most of the time I kept it in the back of my closet, forgetting it was there. We were meant to die when it was barely stitched anymore, when...
It’s hard, in America, not to equate ‘happiness’ with ‘things’.
It’s got to be some kind of cult. Anyone offers you Kool-Aid or a hot shower, say .