I Either Write The Book

Women's Liberation As A Movement Makes Some Valid Points. But In The Final Analysis, It Doesn't Matter Who Wears The Pants - As Long As There's Money In The Pockets.

I Dealt With Men Who Had Tempers, And Who Could Get Violent-lord Knows How I Had To Defend Myself Against Howard Hughes And Frank Sinatra, And From Artie Shaw's Verbal Abuse. But George [c. Scott] Was A Different Category Of Animal When He Got Drunk. He'd Break Into My Hotel Room, Which He Did In Italy, London And At The Beverly Hills Hotel, Attack Me To Where I Was Frightened For My Life, And Scream, 'why Won't You Marry Me?' Well, I Would Never Marry A Man Who Couldn't Control His Liquor. Me, I'm A Happy Drunk. I Laugh, I Dance. I Certainly Don't Break Bottles And Threaten To Kill.

Petting Is The Study Of The Anatomy In Braille.

Don't Think For A Minute That Bad Publicity And Endless Criticism Don't Leave Their Claw Marks On Everyone Concerned. Your Friends Try To Cheer You Up By Saying Lightly, "i Suppose You Get Used To It, And Ignore It." You Try. You Try Damned Hard. But You Never Get Used To It. It Always Wounds And Hurts.

Love Is Nothing But A Pain In The Ass