Only a certain breed of actor should ever even try to work for Orson Welles. I'm glad I'm one of that breed.

Like many alcoholics, I was a staggering woman in a chic apartment, sick and utterly disgusting.

I am responsible for no one but myself.

I can choose to accelerate my disease to an alcoholic death or incurable insanity, or I can choose to live within my thoroughly human condition.

the Irish ... are full of the fear of the Lord and the joy of living, and they don't know how to combine the two, but they'll sure have a good time trying.

Neiman-Marcus is one thing, and the Dallas Cowboys are another.

My name is real, which probably explains why I never became a superstar... how would that look in lights?