Quotes from David Cronenberg

Since I see technology as being an extension of the human body, it's inevitable that it should come home to roost.

Mischievous smile. "I remember reading about Calvin Klein's daughter. Every time she pulled down a lover's pants, she was confronted by her father's name on the band of his underwear. A total sex killer.

We're all photojournalists now. It's no longer enough just to write.

My dentist said to me the other day: I've enough problems in my life, so why should I see your films?

Listen to the crickets," she said, nodding sagely as she spoke, understanding everything.

Philosophy is surgery; surgery is philosophy.

Well, yes,when you no longer have any desire, you are dead. Even desire for a product, a consumer item, is better than no desire at all. Desire for a camera, for instance, even a cheap one, a tawdry one, is enough to keep death at bay." a wicked smile, an inhale of the cigarette with those lips. "If the desire is real, of course.

Censors tend to do what only psychotics do: they confuse reality with illusion.

I have learned the password of two of my neighbors' wireless home networks, so you can use theirs if you like. Be a parasite on their network. Global digital parasitism is the new Trotskyism. Connect to anywhere in the world you like.

I don't think there's anything man wasn't meant to know. There are just some stupid things that people shouldn't do.

Reality is neurology, and is not absolute.

The arrogance of the intellectual. The delusion that we have more balls in the brain to juggle than most people.

Asians love schoolgirls in uniforms. They say the Japanese can buy used schoolgirl panties from vending machines. And from shops hidden away in apartment buildings. Burusera shops, they call them. The smell is very important; it adds value to the commodity. I wonder how Marx would have dealt with that?

For one shining moment, you were the king of fear," she said.

She and Naomi had joked about the sexuality of camera apertures, that they needed to write a woman's monograph on the symbolism and cultural relevance of the mechanics of image-making as it related to sex, so that, for example, stopping down the fixed 35mm lens's diaphragm – elegantly composed of nine shutter-leaf blades – to a tight f/16 would be the equivalent of a Kegel pelvic floor exercise.

Consciousness is the original sin: consciousness of the inevitability of our death.

She pulled the phone back to look at her photo, then, drawn by its ruthless intensity, kissed the image. Her lips left semen smears on the screen. Commodity fetishism at its finest.

The camera also took a moment or two to linger on Chase's athletic breasts, her erect nipples, and her pubic hair, which was dirty blond and luxuriant and not at all in the modern prepubescent shaven-porn idiom which Naomi loathed;

I was aware that I was taking inordinate pleasure in small, technological events and objects, and that this was probably a semiconscious tactic meant to evade confronting certain agonizing life events which were probably not resolvable and were destined to cause unrelenting pain and distress; yet the pleasure was real, and I took it greedily.

For her, the message from Romme, the love letter's message, was: Cut off your left breast, that rustling bag of insects, because if you don't, those insects will spread their insect religion to your entire body.

To not be photographed daily, even by oneself, to not be recorded and videoed and dispersed into the turbulent winds of the net, was to court nonexistence.

Like clocks, recording devices were everywhere embedded; everything was being recorded at every moment, like a huge, infernal Mac Time Machine backup system that created backups of backups regressing into infinity. Who would play these back? Who would pick among them like the survivor of a hideous bombing looking for the rags once worn by his dead and naked mother?

Send these images of me through the internet out into the universe, where I will continue my out-of-body existence.

Do I shock you? We are very playful here. It's a good tone for an operating theater. It is a theater, after all.