Acting Doesn't Bring Anything To A Text.

Oh, Teddy, Darling, Thank You, Thank You, For Restoring My Cynicism. I Was Too Young To Lose It.

I Hate Champagne More Than Anything In The World Next To Seven-up.

Acting Doesn't Bring Anything To A Text. On The Contrary, It Detracts From It.

I Don't Always Understand Other People's Motives. I Will Repeat That For My Own Benefit, If You Don't Mind. I Don't Always Understand Other People's Motives.

It's Difficult To Explain, But I Just Somehow Feel That I Never Really *have* Lived; That I Never Really Will Live--exist Or Whatever--in The Sense That Other People Do. It Drives Me Crazy. I Was Terribly Aware Of It All Those Nights Waiting For You In The Ritz Bar Looking Around At What Seemed To Be Real Grown-up Lives. I Just Find Everybody Else's Life Surrounded By Plate Glass. I Mean I'd Like To Break Through It Just Once And Actually Touch One.