Woody Allen

Woody Allen later wrote in a letter: "My observation was that once a person actually completed a play or a novel, he was well on his way to getting it produced or published, as opposed to a vast majority of people who tell me their ambition is to write, but who strike out on the very first level and indeed never write the play or book. In the midst of the conversation, as I'm now trying to recall, I did say that 80 percent of success is showing up." - 1989 August 13, New York Times, On Language: The Elysian Fields by William Safire.

I have also reviewed my own financial obligations, which have puffed up recently like a hammered thumb.

I think crime pays. The hours are good, you meet a lot of interesting people, you travel a lot.

Interestingly, according to modern astronomers, space is finite. This is a very comforting thought — particularly for people who can never remember where they have left things.

Don't think of death as an ending. Think of it as a really effective way of cutting down your expenses.

The wicked at heart probably know something.

I bought her this handkerchief... and I didn't even know her size.

The most beautiful words in the English language are not 'I love you', but 'It's benign'.

In my next life I want to live backwards. Start out dead and finish off as an orgasm.

I should stop ruining my life searching for answers I'm never gonna get, and just enjoy it while it lasts.

Basically my wife was immature. I'd be at home in the bath and she'd come in and sink my boats.

There have been times when I've thought of suicide but with my luck it'd probably be a temporary solution.

Millions of books written on every conceivable subject by all these great minds and in the end, none of them knows anything more about the big questions of life than I do … I read Socrates. This guy knocked off little Greek boys. What the Hell’s he got to teach me? And Nietzsche, with his theory of eternal recurrence. He said that the life we lived we’re gonna live over again the exact same way for eternity. Great. That means I’ll have to sit through the Ice Capades again. It’s not worth it. And Freud, another great pessimist. I was in analysis for years and nothing happened. My poor analyst got so frustrated, the guy finally put in a salad bar. Maybe the poets are right. Maybe love is the only answer.

Oh, he was probably a member of the National Rifle Association. It was a group that helped criminals get guns so they could shoot citizens. It was a public service.

How can I believe in God when just last week I got my tongue caught in the roller of an electric typewriter?