Why Is There So Much Month Left

The Trouble With Life Is That There Are So Many Beautiful Women And So Little Time.

My Head Is Buried In The Sands Of Tomorrow, While My Tail Feathers Are Singed By The Hot Sun Of Today.

Die? I Should Say Not, Dear Fellow. No Barrymore Would Allow Such A Conventional Thing To Happen To Him.

Dying Is The Last Thing I Will Ever Do.

Mr. [john] Barrymore's Smile Was The Smile Of An Actor Who Hates Actors, And Who Knows That He Is Going To Kill Two Or Three Before The Play Is Over. I Am Not An Actor-killer, But I Like My Hamlets To Dislike Actors, If You Know What I Mean, And I Think You Don't.