Antony Sher Quotes

I'm a complete technophobe. I can't even email.

Every play I do, every book I write, every painting I paint, I will struggle with. I don't know what it's like for a project to come easy.

[Monty] talks about Fritz Perls and the Gestalt theory. The here and now is the only time that exists. And being yourself. Not accepting yourself, not taking yourself for granted. Being yourself. Your self. Monty defines 'normality' as a contententment with who you are.

If I could write a letter to my teenage self, I'd probably say something like: 'You ain't gonna believe what will become of you.'

I can feel the power of the words doing the work. Must trust language more.

I'm having my lunch when I hear a familiar hoarse shout, 'Oy Tony!' I whip round, damaging my neck further, to see Michael Gambon in the lunch queue. …

Gambon tells me the story of Olivier auditioning him at the Old Vic in 1962. His audition speech was from Richard III. 'See, Tone, I was thick as two short planks then and I didn't know he'd had a rather notable success in the part. I was just shitting myself about meeting the Great Man. He sussed how green I was and started farting around.'

As reported by Gambon, their conversation went like this:

Olivier: 'What are you going to do for me?'

Gambon: 'Richard the Third.'

Olivier: 'Is that so. Which part?'

Gambon: 'Richard the Third.'

Olivier: 'Yes, but which part?'

Gambon: 'Richard the Third.'

Olivier: 'Yes, I understand that, but which part?'

Gambon: 'Richard the Third.'

Olivier: 'But which character? Catesby? Ratcliffe? Buckingham's a good part …'

Gambon: 'Oh I see, beg your pardon, no, Richard the Third.'

Olivier: 'What, the King? Richard?'

Gambon: ' - the Third, yeah.'

Olivier: "You've got a fucking cheek, haven't you?'

Gambon: 'Beg your pardon?'

Olivier: 'Never mind, which part are you going to do?'

Gambon: 'Richard the Third.'

Olivier: 'Don't start that again. Which speech?'

Gambon: 'Oh I see, beg your p

I love playing outsiders, I always do.

I never regret things. It's a really dangerous thing to say, but for anyone involved in the arts, the bad things that happen make for good material. It's not a comfortable truth, but it is true.

You don't expect to get the letter saying, Her Majesty would like to appoint you Knight Commander of the British Empire! It was just a completely overwhelming and exciting day.

My grandparents all came from Lithuania to South Africa.

Reading Shakespeare is sometimes like looking through a window into a dark room. You don't see in. You see nothing but a reflection of yourself unable to see in. An unflattering image of yourself blind.

I was a weak kid, not good at what all the boys at school were good at and I found that by acting, by being other people, I could liberate myself from those inadequacies.

I'm always very proud of belonging to three minorities: gay, Jewish, white South African.

When I'm painting and drawing I only do people. Acting is obviously portraiture - and writing is as well.

We've all got darkness inside us. And I've got quite a lot of darkness.

As a gay Jewish white South African, I belong to quite a lot of minority groups. You constantly have to question who you are, what you are and whether you have the courage to be who you are.

Now the dressing-room full of RSC hierarchy. Suddenly Trevor Nunn pushes his way through and 'Trevs' me. I've heard a lot about this 'Trevving', but never had it done to me. From what I'd heard, a 'Trev' is an arm round your shoulder and a sideways squeeze. But this 'Trev' is a full frontal hug, so complete and so intimate that the dressing-room instantly clears, as if by suction. I'm left alone in the arms of this famous man wondering whether it's polite to let go.

A lot of good actors tend to be quite introverted as people.

The effort of learning. It's the same when you approach any new skill or technique, from a dance step to driving a car. The effort of learning stops you, at first, from doing it well.

It's good for actors to confront those things we have to act: panic, pain and death.

When I am on a long run in a play, I'm not sure how I would fill the days if I did not paint or write. On a basic level, it just stops me going crazy.

I don't believe in an afterlife.

As we're leaving the King's Arms Hotel after Sunday lunch, I watch a beautiful white dove walking down the wet road. A car approaches and the bird accidentally turns into the wheel rather than away from it. A gentle crunch. The car passes. A shape like a discarded napkin left in the road. Still perfectly white, no red stains, but bearing no relation anymore to the shape of a bird. A trail of white feathers flutter down the road after the car. The suddeness is very upsetting. That gentle crunch.

Most of my career has been spent with the RSC doing Shakespeare, and the thing you learn from Shakespeare is that his historical plays don't bear anything other than a basic resemblance to history.

What drew me to acting in the first place was disguise.

I've been quoting the book [on Peter Sutcliffe] constantly in rehearsals. Some members of the cast have stated their disapproval that it should even have been written. Some of the women have expressed more - disgust and anger. What are they saying? They'd prefer not to know, not to understand? They'd prefer certain areas of life to be censored? Isn't that partly what breeds the Sutcliffes and the Nilsens?

I have no cynicism at all.

I was never built to play the hero. Physically or emotionally ... And they're not as rewarding to play. At least for me.