I’m so depressed. Christmas is the worst of all. Holidays are terrible, worse than Sundays. I get melancholia.
It’s somehow symbolic of Hollywood that Tara was just a facade, with no rooms inside.
Hollywood’s like Egypt, full of crumbled pyramids. It’ll never come back. It’ll just keep on crumbling until finally the wind blows the last studio prop across the sands.
The little religion that I have clung to-that what matters most is the continuity of life, and its improvement from one generation to another.
They’re stealing my ideas. They’re imitating my shots.
I don’t think I’m going to do any good work this morning.
She has good instincts, but wrong judgments. She’ll rue the day.
Under no circumstances would it be right for me to go with MGM. Irene shares my opinion.
Thank God for your mother.
The success of a production depends on the attention paid to detail.
There are only two kinds of class: First class and no class.
If you’re not accurate, you’ll cause untold trouble.
If you sit down with me, I guarantee I will accept any terms you offer for a contract.
If and when we get married, only a completely opposite system will prevail.
I can feel that the world this day is different than all the days of our lives before.
I never ate of the grapes nor feared of the eruptions.
I cannot permit you to disrupt the Paramount schedule.