No One Ever Hates Without A Cause.

I Often Feel That Worse Than The Most Fiendish Nazis Were Those Germans Who Went Along With The Persecution Of The Jews Not Because They Really Disliked Them But Because It Was The Thing.

Hollywood's Two Polar Types Are The Cynically Drunken Writer Aggressively Nursing A Ten-year-old Reputation And The Theatrically Self-conscious Hermit Who Strides The Boulevard In Sandals, Home-made Shorts And A Prophetic Beard, Muttering Against The Age Of The Machines.

The Nazis Were Not Right To Hate The Jews. But Their Hating Of Jews Was Not Without A Cause. No One Ever Hates Without A Cause.

I'll Bet Shakespeare Compromised Himself A Lot; Anybody Who's In The Entertainment Industry Does To Some Extent.

In The Eternal Lazy Morning Of The Pacific, Days Slip Away Into Months, Months Into Years; The Seasons Are Reduced To The Faintest Nuance By The Great Central Fact Of The Sunshine; One Might Pass A Lifetime, It Seems, Between Two Yawns, Lying Bronzed And Naked In The Sand.