In Hollywood, No One Knows Anything.

I Have Stayed These Years In My Hovel Because Of You. I Have Taught Myself Languages Because Of You. I Have Made My Body Strong Because I Thought You Might Be Pleased By A Strong Body. I Have Lived My Life With Only The Prayer That Some Sudden Dawn You Might Glance In My Direction. I Have Not Known A Moment In Years When The Sight Of You Did Not Send My Heart Careening Against My Rib Cage. I Have Not Known A Night When Your Visage Did Not Accompany Me To Sleep. There Has Not Been A Morning When You Did Not Flutter Behind My Waking Eyelids.

You Have A Dizzying Intellect.

Duhhhhhhh, Tanks, Buttercup.

The Boys. The Village Boys. The Beef-witted Featherbrained Rattleskulled Clodpated Dimdomed Noodle-noggined Sapheaded Lunk-knobbed Boys. How Could Anybody Accuse Her Of Stealing Them? Why Would Anybody Want Them Anyway?

If All That's Going On In Your Scenes Is What's Going On In Your Scenes, Think About It A Long Time.