My singing is part of me, like my stoutness, or my light hair, or my poor eyesight.

I love animals to the extent that my home is my dog's home! Which means that nothing is too good for my Freckles-chairs, couches, beds. But I do draw the line on chipmunks nibbling at my table linens, bedding, blankets, etc.

I am harder on myself than anyone else could be.

I could see myself in a white nurse's uniform, working unnoticed for many years and at last dying, unknown, unmarried and unsung.

Every small town has its dramatic group, its barber-shop quartet, every home has music in one form or another.

It has been said that genius is only the power of making continuous effort. The line between failure and success is so fine that we scarcely know when we pass it. We are told that there is no failure, except in no longer trying - no defeat, except from within, no really insurmountable barrier save our own weakness of purpose.

During the presidential primaries of 1940, I received a request from the Democratic National Committee to sing God Bless America before the speeches.