Welcome to the Academy Awards, or, as it’s known at my house, Passover.
It’s a wonderful way to live, and not a bad way to go, either. The average Frenchman is still smiling three months after he’s dead.
Free speech isn’t dead in Germany and Italy, merely the speakers...
I left England when I was four because I found out I could never be King.
Louis B. Mayer came out west with $28.00, a box camera and an old lion. He built a monument to himself – the Bank of America.
I have the perfect simplified tax form for government. Why don’t they just print our money with a return address on it?
In his prime, the young comic walked onto a stage with the confidence of a man who owned it, and by the time he walked off, he did.
Cypress Point is such a beautiful place, but it’s also very exclusive. They had a very successful membership drive last month. They drove out forty members.
Foursomes have left the first tee there and have never been seen again. They just find their shoelaces and bags.
Everybody knows what California smog is – that’s fog with the vitamins removed.
In England when you make a movie even the weather is against you. In Hollywood the weatherman gets a shooting schedule from all the major studios and then figures out where he can fit in a little rain without upsetting Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer too much.
If my golf game was a prize fight, they’d stop it.
Go figure a crazy, mixed-up country where ballet outsells boxing. I wouldn’t be surprised if their wrestling was on the level.
The workers love Khrushchev very much. He hasn’t got an enemy in the entire country. Quite a few under it.
Tokyo cab drivers are all ex-kamikaze pilots.
And on nearby islands, the Japanese army was eating raw fish. We felt sorry for them. We didn’t know that in America after the war, you wouldn’t be able to get into a sushi joint without a reservation. And we thought they lost.
America is a country where the Olympics and the divorce lawyers both have the same slogan – Go for the Gold.
We had a very successful trip to Russia. We made it back.
Our first stop was red square, the heart of Moscow – if Moscow has one.
I was lucky I wasn’t a better boxer, or that’s what I’d be now – a punchy ex-pug.
I made so many B pictures I began to get fan mail from hornets... and for me that was an improvement.