Why is it men are permitted to be obsessed about their work, but women are only permitted to be obsessed about men?

I've always liked working really hard and then doing nothing in particular. So, consequently, I didn't overexpose myself; I guess I maintained a kind of mystery. I wasn't ambitious.

Eighteenth century American furniture and the design of the architects Greene and Greene are my special love.

I love things that are indescribable, like the taste of an avocado or the smell of a gardenia.

Around people I don't know, I'm totally at a loss.

Why is it people who want the truth never believe it when they hear it?

I wish I could be like Shaw who once read a bad review of one of his plays, called the critic and said: 'I have your review in front of me and soon it will be behind me.'