I’m a long-term fan of Woody Allen: particular the early, “funny” films, his stand-up material and his prose (which I may like best of all). Though he’s been caught up in the ‘me too’ movement, because of allegations of sexual abuse made by his step-daughter, he has been investigated - twice - by the police and found to have no case to answer. I’m old-fashioned, and prefer to believe a man is innocent until he’s proved guilty. One thing I can’t deny is that his family life is complicated, and that his attitude to women - as revealed in his early stories - can sound rather dated in 2020.
A sizeable tome - Complete Prose - brings together his three books of stories: Without Feathers, Getting Even and Side Effects. I keep the book on my bedside table, ready to open it up at random and read a few pages. Woody is not just a film-maker who writes a bit. He’s quite the stylist, and his only competitor for ‘gags for page’ is probably Groucho Marx.
Is sex dirty? Only when it's being done right.
My one regret in life is that I am not someone else.
If only God would give me some clear sign! Like making a large deposit in my name at a Swiss Bank.
I took a speed-reading course and read War and Peace in twenty minutes. It’s about Russia.
I was thrown out of college for cheating on the metaphysics exam; I looked into the soul of the boy sitting next to me.
Don't knock masturbation. It's sex with someone you love.
Not only is there no God, but try finding a plumber on Sunday.
The lion and the lamb shall lie down together but the lamb won’t get much sleep.
I don't want to achieve immortality through my work; I want to achieve immortality through not dying…
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