I used to annoy my father by telling him how much I felt luck was with me.
I needed to be accepted, not humored. I intended to act.
I learned quickly at Columbia that the only eye that mattered was the one on the camera.
I had known Cole Porter in Hollywood and New York, spent many a warm hour at his home, and met the talented and original people who were drawn to him.
I hole up now and then and do nothing for days but read.
When I met Jack Kennedy, he was a serious young man with a dream. He was not a womanizer, not as I understood the term.
The main cause of my difficulties stemmed from the tragedy of my daughter’s unsound birth and my inability to face my feelings.
The Hollywood structure was monopolistic, run by four or five big studios.
In my early days in Hollywood I tried to be economical. I designed my own clothes, much to my mother’s distress.
I was plunged into what was known as the debutante social whirl. This was one of the ways fathers justified their own hard work and sacrifices.
I was not cut out to be a rebel.
I had no romantic interest in Gable. I considered him an older man.
Hollywood can be hard on women, but it did not cause my problems.
For years it never occurred to me to question the judgment of those in charge at the studio.
Fonda and Gary Cooper had the best sense of timing of all the actors I knew.