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I’d drink too much and long for the taste of the streets again, of the gutter, the dark hotels, the cities where I was not known. Oh, to start over and live a totally different life! Some nights I’d break out of our home, looking for I never knew what, or where I might find it. More often than not,…

BUT MY misery those years was deeper. I was in revolt against my way of life, my respectability and that of the wife I loved. Against our orderly and proper way of living. I longed for what I can only call chaos. I kept feeling I was in the wrong place, doing the wrong things with the wrong people.…

On the day after our arrival, I received a cable from New York City, informing me, by a prearranged code, that I had a new son by a woman not my wife. I can’t remember that I was flustered. I went to a press conference and did my best to “push” my film.

Molly enjoyed the hotel, the excellent foo…

A writer, perhaps more than a filmmaker or a theatre director, lives off what he has stored up in the way of impressions and experiences. One thing we all learn is not to deny our violent feelings but to respect them. They are our material, as well as our bond with humanity. People generally try to…

I’m rather good at concealing anger. Had to be in my old profession. But recently it’s begun to show through. What I’m mad at nowadays is, for instance, mortality. I’ve passed seventy-eight and have only recently found how to enjoy life. For one thing, I’ve stopped worrying about what people think …