It's Much Easier To Make People Cry

Every Single Night I'm Nervous.

But I Remember The Morning After The Mask Of Virtue-which Is The First Play I Did At The West End-that Some Critics Saw Fit To Be As Foolish As To Say That I Was A Great Actress. And I Thought, That Was A Foolish, Wicked Thing To Say, Because It Put Such An Onus And Such A Responsibility Onto Me, Which I Simply Wasn't Able To Carry. And It Took Me Years To Learn Enough To Live Up To What They Said-for Those First Notices. I Find It So Stupid. I Remember The Critic Very Well, And Have Never Forgiven Him.

My Husband, Who's The Greatest Actor In The World, Can Do Anything. Look At What He Did In The Critic And Oedipus. In Every Role He Gets-he Did This In Richard The Third-there's Nothing He Can't Do, Nothing. Just Nothing.

Scarlett, From The Ashes Of The War-ravaged Land At Tara, Remembering What She Was Taught By Her Father In Happier Times: "as God Is My Witness, As God Is My Witness, They're Not Going To Lick Me! I'm Going To Live Through This, And When It's All Over, I'll Never Be Hungry Again - No, Nor Any Of My Folks! If I Have To Lie, Steal, Cheat, Or Kill! As God Is My Witness, I'll Never Be Hungry Again."

Having Lost Rhett, She Can Always Return To The Land - To Tara, To Soak Up Its Strength. . . . Tara! . . . Home. I'll Go Home, And I'll Think Of Some Way To Get Him Back! After All, Tomorrow Is Another Day!