I am an isolationist.

I had a probing mind and an elephant memory.

We never had a bathtub. Mom would bathe me in the wooden or tin washtub in the kitchen, or in a big lard can.

I wondered what I would do if I didn't have my God to turn to and be able to read the Book He had divinely inspired.

I have reason to be shy. I've been hurt plenty.

Mom never quit on me. My only regret is that she didn't live long enough to share some of the money and comforts my work in show business has brought me.

I found that a couple of bottles of beer would give me a lift, but the third bottle would sober me up.