I won't write my autobiography because I never had an affair with Frank Sinatra, and if I had had, I wouldn't tell anyone.

Don't remember me as too nice or beautiful or funny, because then you'll be disappointed.

I won't write my autobiography because I never had an affair with Frank Sinatra, and if I had had, I wouldn't tell anyone.

This can't last. This misery can't last. I must remember that and try to control myself. Nothing lasts really. Neither happiness nor despair. Not even life lasts very long.

I'd have liked to have leant against walls in thrillers.