When did I realize I was God? Well, I was praying and I suddenly realized I was talking to myself.
Peter O'TooleRead
I have no intention of uttering my last words on the stage. Room service and a couple of depraved young women will do me quite nicely for an exit.
Interpretation
The speaker humorously prefers a lavish, indulgent exit to a solemn farewell.
Peter O'Toole's quote reflects a playful and irreverent attitude towards death and finality, suggesting that he would rather enjoy the pleasures of life, such as room service and companionship, rather than making a grand or emotional exit. This perspective highlights a person's desire to embrace life's joys right up to the very end, using humor to cope with the concept of mortality.
In practice
During a comedic toast at a retirement party.
When did I realize I was God? Well, I was praying and I suddenly realized I was talking to myself.
No one should ever know where conduct ends and acting begins. Conduct unbecoming. That's what acting is.
I put steam on the table by being an actor. That is how I live. The longer I live, the more expensive it becomes. So I do my work. And I can't be immensely picky. How many beautiful scripts come in one's lifetime? I have had more than anybody, practically.
A few years back I was asked if I would go and meet a director and his various acolytes, and it occurred to me halfway through the meeting that what I was doing was auditioning. And I thought, 'Well, hang on buddy. I've done half a century of this.'
Acting is just being a man. Being human. Not forcing it.
It is time for me to chuck in the sponge. To retire from films and stage. The heart for it has gone out of me: it won't come back.
I ain't no movie star, man. I'm a booty star.
I am never honored. My career is hilarious to me. I am either under the radar or over the radar.
God will forgive me. It's his job." Heine said this on his deathbed (1856). Hilarious. He must have thought that up years before and counted the seconds to use it.
I'm offended by political jokes. Too often they get elected.
Give a critic an inch, he'll write a play.
I don't want to die now!" he yelled. "I've still got a headache! I don't want to go to heaven with a headache, I'd be all cross and wouldn't enjoy it!
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