Hung-up Women Can't Produce Anything But Mediocre

Besides Me Wanting To Be An Artist, I Wanted To Be A Movie Star.

I Had Gone To Paris To Immerse Myself In Painting And I Came Back Wholly Involved In Words And Rhythms.

I Got Over The Loss Of His Desk And Chair, But Never The Desire To Produce A String Of Words More Precious Than The Emeralds Of Cortés.

I Hated The Makeup. I Hated All That Pancake Makeup. I Didn't Really Like Dressing For Parts.

Jesus Died For Somebody's Sins But Not Mine.