Legends Die Hard. They Survive As Truth

There's A Little Vanity Chair That Charlie Gave Me The First Christmas We Knew Each Other. I'll Not Be Parting With That, Nor Our Bed - The Four-poster - I'll Be Needing That To Die In.

Perhaps We Have Been Misguided Into Taking Too Much Responsibility From Our Children, Leaving Them Too Little Room For Discovery

We May Be Living In The Twentieth Century, In Resplendent Sophistication. But Deep Down, Most Of Us Find Ourselves Still In The Stone Age Of Superstition.

The Old-fashioned Idea That The Simple Piling Up Of Experiences, One On Top Of Another, Can Make You An Artist, Is, Of Course, So Much Rubbish. If Acting Were Just A Matter Of Experience, Then Any Busy Harlot Could Make Garbo's Camille Pale.

The Theatre Demanded Of Its Members Stamina, Good Digestion, The Ability To Adjust, And A Strong Sense Of Humor. There Was No Discomfort An Actor Didn't Learn To Endure. To Survive, We Had To Be Horses And We Were.