I'm a tough old broad from Brooklyn. Don't try to make me into something I'm not. If you want someone to tiptoe down the Barkley staircase in crinoline and politely ask where the cattle went, get another girl.

I'm now the Lord of the Brighton Manor.

The more you kick something that's dead, the worse it smells.

My only problem is finding a way to play my fortieth fallen female in a different way from my thirty-ninth.

The boy's got a lot to learn and I've got a lot to teach.

It's perhaps not the future I would choose. I still think it's possible to make a success of both marriage and career even though I didn't. But it's not a bad future. And I'm not afraid of it.

I'm a tough old broad from Brooklyn. I intend to go on acting until I'm ninety, and they won't need to paste my face with make-up.