We Have Two Kinds Of Air: Regular

Entertainment Is Like Any Other Major Industry; It's Cold, Big Business. The Business End Wants To Know One Thing: Can You Do The Job? If You Can, You're In, You're Made; If You Can't, You're Out.

For Days After Death Hair And Fingernails Continue To Grow, But Phone Calls Taper Off.

I've Worked Ever Since I Was A Kid With A Two-bit Kit Of Magic Tricks Trying To Improve My Skills At Entertaining Whatever Public I Had - And To Make Myself Ready, Whenever The Breaks Came, To Entertain A Wider And More Demanding Public.

Democracy Means Free Television, Not Good Television, But Free.

I'm Not One Of Those Who Spring Up Yelling, "yippee! Another Day!" I'll Grumble And Sulk Around A Couple Of Hours, Reading Newspapers And Trying To Pick Out An Idea I Might Do Something With On The Show. But I Don't Really Start Functioning Until Noon Or Later; Then About Two I Go To The Studio And The Pace Begins To Quicken.