People respect you because they feel you've survived hard times and endured, and although you've become famous, you haven't become phony.

Joe: You don't want me, Sugar. I'm a liar and a phony. A saxophone player. One of those no-goodniks you keep running away from. Sugar: I know, every time. Joe: Sugar, do yourself a favor. Go back to where the millionaires are, the sweet end of the lollipop, not the cole slaw in the face, the old socks and the squeezed-out tube of toothpaste. Sugar: That's right. Pour it on. Talk me out of it. (She grabs him to kiss him.)

We are all of us stars, and we deserve to twinkle.

No girl should ever forget that she doesn't need anyone who doesn't need her.

Of the nude pictures: Sure I posed. I needed the money.

What do I wear in bed? Why, Chanel No. 5, of course.

When you're a failure in Hollywood, that's like starving to death outside a banquet hall, with smells of filet mignon driving you crazy.