Martin Scorsese Quotes

To be lost is as legitimate a part of your process as being found.

People can't really place me. They're not really sure who I am.

Existence is a series of footnotes to a vast, obscure, unfinished masterpiece.

People occasionally recognise me. But they don't know who I am. I see a lot of bemused looks... They're trying to figure it out.

Truth is the torch that gleams through the fog without dispelling it.

The future is a fog that is still hanging out over the sea, a boat that floats home or does not. The trade winds blow me, and I do not know where the land is; the waves fold over each other; they are in love with themselves; sleeping in their own skin; and I float over them and I do not know about tomorrow.

I see a lot of fog and a few lights. I like it when life's hidden. It gives you a chance to imagine nice things, nicer than they are.

Mystery magnifies danger as the fog the sun.

I can't tell you where I'm going . . . but I can tell you where I come from.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean

I think a good poem should have some inscrutable part. You can't quite explain it. The poem can only explain itself to a certain limit and at that point you enter into a little bit of mystery. That for me is the perfect poem: to begin in clarity and to end in mystery.

I kind of miss that "becoming" stage, as most times you really don't know what's around the corner. Now, of course, I've kind of knocked on the door and heard a muffled answer. Nevertheless, I still don't know what the voice is saying, or even what language it's in.

And this was the main precondition, that anything might be something else. Once I'd accepted that, it followed that I might be mad, or that someone might think me mad. How could I say for certain that I wasn't, if I couldn't say for certain that a curtain wasn't a mountain range?

A curtain of stars, miles of them, are scattered, glowing, across the sky and their multitude humbles me, which I have a hard time tolerating. She shrugs and nods after I say something about forms of anxiety. It's as if her mind is having a hard time communicating with her mouth, as if she is searching for a rational analysis of who I am, which is, of course, an impossibility: there... is... no... key.

The First Book: Go ahead, it won't bite. Well... maybe a little. More a nip, like. A tingle. It's pleasurable, really. You see, it keeps on opening. You may fall in. Sure, it's hard to get started; remember learning to use knife and fork? Dig in: you'll never reach bottom. It's not like it's the end of the world -- just the world as you think you know it.

Nobody knows who I am or what I do. Not even I. Don Juan Matus

To quote Agent Cooper, 'I have no idea where this will lead us, but I have a definite feeling it will be a place both wonderful and strange.'

All is a riddle, and the key to a riddle...is another riddle.

"There's a door," he whispered. "Where does it go?" "It stays where it is, I think," said Rincewind.

The future is dark, which is the best thing the future can be, I think.

We are in a position similar to that of a mountaineer who is wandering over uncharted spaces, and never knows whether behind the peak which he sees in front of him and which he tries to scale there may not be another peak still beyond and higher up.

You only know who you think you are. You sort of feel like you could change at any minute.

The need for mystery is greater than the need for an answer.

So when people ask me if there's another one, I say, "You know, I don't think so, but I don't know, and I kind of don't understand why."

As soon as you think you know Clint Eastwood, you don't know Clint Eastwood.