I don't watch my own films very often. I become so jittery and ready to cry... and miserable. I think it's awful.
Ingmar BergmanRead
I'd prostitute my talents if it would further my cause, steal if there was no way out, killing my friends or anyone else if it would help my art.
Interpretation
The quote expresses a willingness to go to extreme lengths for the sake of artistic expression and success.
Ingmar Bergman's quote reveals the intense passion and sometimes ruthless nature of an artist's pursuit. It highlights the idea that true commitment to one's art can lead individuals to consider morally questionable actions in the quest for creative fulfillment, emphasizing the sacrifices made in the name of artistic integrity and ambition.
In practice
During a speech at an art gala, one could use this quote to highlight the extremes artists go to in their dedication.
I don't watch my own films very often. I become so jittery and ready to cry... and miserable. I think it's awful.
To shoot a film is to organize an entire universe.
I want to confess as best I can, but my heart is void. The void is a mirror. I see my face and feel loathing and horror. My indifference to men has shut me out. I live now in a world of ghosts, a prisoner in my dreams.
To humiliate and be humiliated, I think, is a crucial element in our whole social structure. It's not only the artist I'm sorry for. It's just that I know exactly where he feels most humiliated.
Only someone who is well prepared has the opportunity to improvise.
When you feel perpetually unmotivated, you start questioning your existence in an unhealthy way; everything becomes a pseudo intellectual question you have no interest in responding whatsoever. This whole process becomes your very skin and it does not merely affect you; it actually defines you. So, you see yourself as a shadowy figure unworthy of developing interest, unworthy of wondering about the world - profoundly unworthy in every sense and deeply absent in your very presence.
The unwelcome November rain had perversely stolen the day's last hour and pawned it with that ancient fence, the night.
I have an impulse to write all over the orange walls- I need an alphabet of endings ripped out of books, of hands pulled off of clocks, of cold stones, of shoes filled with nothing but wind.
No good poem, however confessional it may be, is just a self-expression. Who on earth would claim that the pearl expresses the oyster?
Paris was a universe whole and entire unto herself, hollowed and fashioned by history; so she seemed in this age of Napoleon III with her towering buildings, her massive cathedrals, her grand boulevards and ancient winding medieval streets - as vast and indestructible as nature itself.
It's hard to really articulate what the parameters are that make one song parody-able and another song not, but if I can come up with a good enough idea for it, I go for it, and if not, then I have to move on.
It's hard to be the one that stands out when, you know, in a ballet company, you're trying to create unison and uniform when you're in a corps de ballet.
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