I once wanted to prove myself by being a great actress. Now I want to prove that I'm a person. Then maybe I'll be a great actress.

I am good, but not an angel. I do sin, but I am not the devil. I am just a small girl in a big world trying to find someone to love.

By nature, I suppose I have a languorous disposition

I used to think as I looked out on the Hollywood night, 'There must be thousands of girls sitting alone like me dreaming of being a movie star.' But I'm not going to worry about them. I'm dreaming the hardest.

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.)

Sometimes good things fall apart so better things could fall together.

It's often just enough to be with someone. I don't need to touch them. Not even talk. A feeling passes between you both. You're not alone.