I was a self-centered bore. I was masochistic, and only thought I was happy. When I woke up and said, "there must be something wrong with me", I grew up. Because I never understood myself, how could I hope to understand anyone else? That's why I can truly say that now I can give a woman love for the first time in my life, because I can understand her.

Who is omnipotent or wise enough to decide each new standard of good taste? Or sensitivity?

I have no plans to write an autobiography, I will leave that to others. I'm sure they will turn me into a homosexual or a Nazi spy or something else.

Everyone tells me I've had such an interesting life, but sometimes I think it's been nothing but stomach disturbances and self-concern.

When I'm married I want to be single, and when I'm single I want to be married.

It takes 500 small details to add up to one favorable impression.

Everyone wants to be Cary Grant. Even I want to be Cary Grant.