Very often there’s this misapprehension about actors being people that need to display themselves, to reveal themselves in public.
I’m very often still very much alive for that other being and that other world long after the film is finished.
The more articulate somebody is, the more suspicious I am of them. I like to feel that the important things remain unsaid.
I don’t feel my son should pay the price for what I do.
You’ve just provided me with the makings of one hell of a weekend in Dublin.
Where I come from, it was a heresy to say you wanted to be in movies, leave alone American movies.
To people who don’t know me I’m defined by a number of things that people know about me that are entirely untrue.
I like to cook things very slowly.
I’m not actually a big musical fan.
Film has become such a central part of our culture now that I think sometimes too great a weight is placed upon it in terms of scrutiny and analysis. There’s a lot of rather specious professorial stuff that swirls around films.
I spend many months in apparently listless rumination out of which I hope something will emerge.
The last time I was on a small set would’ve been probably My Left Foot.
My main memories of my father are of his illness.
My curiosity sustains me for the period of the shoot.
Many years ago, I really didn’t know where the next work was coming from.
If you remain unsettled by a piece of writing, it means you are not watching the story from the outside; you’ve already taken a step towards it.
I’ve got a serious-looking head.
I’ve been very lucky.
I’m woefully one-track-minded.
Leaving a role is a terrible sadness. The last day of the shooting is surreal. Your soul, your body and your mind are not ready at all to see the end of this experience. In the following months after a film shoot, one feels a deep sense of void.