Las Vegas: It Was Not Cafe Society,

I Don't Believe In Astrology. The Only Stars I Can Blame For My Failures Are Those That Walk About The Stage.

I Never Cared Who Scored The Goal, Or Which Side Won The Silver Cup. I Never Learned To Bat Or Bowl; But I Heard The Curtain Going Up.

I Have A Memory Like An Elephant. In Fact, Elephants Often Consult Me.

Many Years Ago I Remember A Famous Actress Explaining To Me With Perfect Seriousness That Before Making An Entrance She Always Stood Aside To Allow God To Go On First. I Can Also Remember That On That Particular Occasion He Gave A Singularly Uninspired Performance.

An Infant Prodigy Of Nine Is Shoved Upon The Stage In White. She Starts Off In A Dismal Whine About A Dark And Stormy Night, A Burglar, Whose Heart Is True, Despite His Wicked-looking Face, Who Puts The Little Child In Doom, To Save Her Mamma's Jewel Case. This May Bring Tears To Every Eye; It Does Not Set My Heart On Fire. I'd Like To Stand Serenely By And Watch That Horrid Child Expire.