When people ask me if I went to film school I tell them, 'no, I

Hear the bold and fiery words of Quentin Tarantino, master of dialogue and rebel of the screen, who declared: “When people ask me if I went to film school I tell them, ‘no, I went to films.’” In this saying, there is not mere wit but the cry of an artist proclaiming the primacy of passion over formal instruction. For Tarantino speaks to the truth that art is not confined to classrooms and textbooks, but lives and breathes in the works themselves. One can learn more by immersing in the living river of cinema than by standing at the edge of theory.

The meaning of this quote lies in the idea that the essence of learning is not always found in institutions but in devotion, in practice, and in the hunger to absorb. Tarantino, once a video store clerk, spent his youth not in lecture halls but among the shelves of countless films, watching them obsessively, dissecting their rhythms, memorizing their dialogues, and piecing together their techniques. In so doing, he became both student and teacher, guided not by professors but by the great works themselves. His education was the screen; his textbooks were reels of celluloid.

History is filled with examples of such self-taught brilliance. Consider Michael Faraday, the scientist who, with little formal education, apprenticed in a bookbinder’s shop. By reading and experimenting, he became one of the greatest discoverers of electromagnetism. Or think of Benjamin Franklin, who schooled himself in letters and science through voracious reading, becoming a statesman, inventor, and philosopher. Like Tarantino, they remind us that the truest school is often experience and relentless curiosity, not ivory towers.

The power of Tarantino’s declaration also lies in its defiance. Many look to credentials as the proof of worth, yet Tarantino reminds us that passion can be its own qualification. He is not scorning film schools, but showing that mastery arises from immersion and love. By watching thousands of films, he learned how stories move, how characters breathe, and how tension builds. His films, unconventional yet unforgettable, are proof that immersion in the art itself can produce vision as profound as any degree.

The quote also carries a deeper lesson for life: one must not wait for permission to pursue their calling. Too often, we believe greatness is only attainable through official paths. Yet Tarantino’s words remind us that if the fire of passion burns within, we can learn from the world around us. The films were his mentors; the cinema was his cathedral. So too can each person find their school in the craft they love, if only they are willing to devote themselves wholly.

The lesson is clear: do not let lack of formal schooling stop you from pursuing mastery. Learn from the works that inspire you. If you are a writer, read voraciously; if you are a musician, listen deeply; if you are a craftsman, study the tools of your trade. The world itself can be your teacher, if you enter it with hunger and humility. What matters is not the diploma but the devotion, not the degree but the depth of your learning.

So, children of tomorrow, remember Tarantino’s wisdom: you need not always go to school to be great—you must go to the art itself. Immerse yourself until it lives within you, until you breathe it, dream it, and shape it anew with your own hands. For the true education is passion, and the true university is life. As Tarantino declared, “I went to films.” Let this be your guide: go directly to the source of what you love, and there, find your greatness.