This Olympics is almost a little sad. It is my final Olympics. There are a lot of good memories.

It's sad to know I'm done. But looking back I've got a lot of great memories.

It would be sad if my best work had been 20 years ago and now I only had memories.

I get some of my ideas from watching my three daughters but most of them come from my own memories of growing up. I can remember how romantic I was not just about love but romance in the classic sense - the romantic ideals: of honor and truth of loyalty sacrifice and fairness. Those were the elements that made a story satisfying to me.

My first memories of religion were being taken to Episcopal church. My father was Catholic but my mother I believe was Episcopal. So I sort of veered off into the watered-down version of Catholicism.

Our enemies are our evil deeds and their memories our pride our selfishness our malice our passions which by conscience or by habit pursue us with a relentlessness past the power of figure to express.

The poetry of a people comes from the deep recesses of the unconscious the irrational and the collective body of our ancestral memories.

The threat today is not that of the 1930s. It's not big powers going to war with each other. The ravages which fundamentalist political ideology inflicted on the 20th century are memories. The Cold war is over. Europe is at peace if not always diplomatically.

Music at its essence is what gives us memories. And the longer a song has existed in our lives the more memories we have of it.

I'm the first to admit that I like going to or my memories at least of going to Clint Eastwood movies or Charles Bronson or James Bond.