I Don't Look At Scripts.

Old Rose: It's Been 84 Years, And I Can Still Smell The Fresh Paint. The China Had Never Been Used. The Sheets Had Never Been Slept In. Titanic Was Called The Ship Of Dreams, And It Was. It Really Was.

Broken Horses Is An Artistic Triumph. Beautifully Written, Acted And Imaged, This Film Wraps Slowly Around You Like A King Snake And Squeezes.

When Nikita Khrushchev Wrapped Himself In The Bloody Mantle Of The Czars He Broke Hungary, He Broke The Little Communist Parties Over The Western World, And He Broke The Hearts Of Many Honest Men Who Had Trusted A Little Too Far, A Little Too Long.

I Watched A Couple Of Really Bad Directors Work, And I Saw How They Completely Botched It Up And Missed The Visual Opportunities Of The Scene When We Had Put Things In Front Of Them As Opportunities. Set Pieces, Props And So On.

I Like The Evening In India, The One Magic Moment When The Sun Balances On The Rim Of The World, And The Hush Descends, And Ten Thousand Civil Servants Drift Homeward On A River Of Bicycles, Brooding On The Lord Krishna And The Cost Of Living.