The most beautiful clothes look awful draped over a shapeless from. And, conversely, a really good figure can wear a twenty-dollar dress with verve.
Send me flowers while I’m alive. They won’t do me a damn bit of good after I’m dead.
There’s nothing wrong with my tits but I don’t go around throwing them in people’s faces.
Women’s Lib? Poor little things. They always look so unhappy. Have you noticed how bitter their faces are?
Recently I heard a ‘wise guy’ story that I had a party at my home for twenty-five men. It’s an interesting story, but I don’t know twenty-five men I’d want to invite ta a party.
Choose your clothes for your way of life.
Find your happiest colours – the ones that make you feel good.
Sure, I’d play an ape if they asked me. Maurice Evans did.
Life deals from the bottom, sometimes, doesn’t it?
Then there’s that ‘You’re only as old as you feel’ business, which is true to a point, but you can’t be Shirley Temple on the Good Ship Lollipop forever. Sooner or later, dammit, you’re old.
Well, we can skip childhood because I didn’t have any. Not one goddam moment on the Good Ship Lollipop.
I remember most clearly when a teenage Christopher spat in my face. He said, “I hate you”. It’s pretty hard to overlook that. I couldn’t.
Mr. Cukor is a hard task-master, a fine director and he took me over the coals giving me the roughest time I have ever had. And I am eternally grateful.
My tears speak for me.
I’ve persuaded myself that I hate things that are bad for me – fattening food, late nights, and loud and aggressive people head the list. I’m friends with myself, so I do things that are good for me, otherwise I couldn’t be good for others.
The intelligent woman adapts herself to fashion, but never to fad. She knows what is best for her, and her way of life, and sticks to it. She raises and lowers her hemline – with discretion – but she goes on with her timeless dresses made with the basic lines and fabrics that flatter HER, define HER life style. She’s secure, and so she can be an elegant individual.
Squeezing the most out of life takes a little executive planning. I used to say to the children when they were growing up, “If you have twelve things to do, and twelve hours to do them in, don’t spend the first ten hours doing just one thing or you’ll find yourself in an awful mess at the end of the day. Plan. And everything will get done.
Conquering fears, whatever they may be, opens life up – and this life should be as full of different experiences as we can make it. Too many women build fences around themselves, especially as they grow older. They limit themselves, or feel that life has limited them.
Scrubbing, for me, is the greatest exercise in the world. It gives me rosy cheeks, and I just have a ball.
Bitterness and self-pity are deadly poisons that can’t be hidden. They seem to exude from the pores.