The Act Of Sex, Gratifying As It

My Passions Were All Gathered Together Like Fingers That Made A Fist. Drive Is Considered Aggression Today; I Knew It Then As Purpose.

I'd Marry Again If I Found A Man Who Had Fifteen Million Dollars, Would Sign Over Half To Me, And Guarantee That He'd Be Dead Within A Year.

The Only Reason Anyone Goes To Broadway Is Because They Can't Get Work In The Movies.

Without Discipline And Detachment, An Actor Is An Emotional Slob, Spilling His Insides Out. This Abandonment Is Having An Unfortunate Vogue. It Is Tasteless, Formless, Absurd. Without Containment There Is No Art. All This Vomiting And Wheezing And Bursting At The Seams Is No More Great Acting Than The Convulsions Of Raving Maniacs.

Attempt The Impossible In Order To Improve Your Work.