Hollywood money isn't money. It's congealed snow, melts in your hand, and there you are.

You can't teach an old dogma new tricks.

...as for helping me in the outside world, the Convent taught me only that if you spit on a pencil eraser, it will erase ink.

The sun's gone dim, and the moon's gone black. For I loved him, and he didn't love back.

Hell's afloat in lover's tears.

Accursed from their birth they be Who seek to find monogamy, Pursuing it from bed to bed— I think they would be better dead.

The only “ism” Hollywood believes in is plagiarism.