I Either Write The Book Or Sell

For The Loot, Honey, For The Loot.

I Don't Mind Growing Old. If I Have To Go Before My Time, This Is How I'll Go-- Cigarette In One Hand, Glass Of Scotch In The Other.

When You Have To Face Up To The Fact That Marriage To The Man You Love Is Really Over, That's Very Tough, Sheer Agony. In That Kind Of Harrowing Situation, I Always Go Away And Cut Myself Off From The World. Also, I Sober Up Immediately When There Is Genuine Bad News In My Life; I Never Face It With Alcohol In My Brain. I Just Rented A House In Palm Springs And Sat There And Just Suffered For A Couple Of Weeks. I Suffered There Until I Was Strong Enough To Face It.

I Either Write The Book Or Sell The Jewels. And I'm Kinda Sentimental About The Jewels.

I Wish To Live To 150 Years Old, But The Day I Die, I Wish It To Be With A Cigarette In One Hand And A Glass Of Whiskey In The Other.