I'd met Sharon Tate at the Cannes Film Festival.

I loved her enough to forget myself, my self pitying despairs, and be content that something she thought happy was going to happen.

How do I look so young? Quite simple: a complete vegetable diet, 12 hours sleep a night, and lots and lots of make-up.

I've never had an affair with somebody who wasn't at the same time a very good friend of mine, if you see what I mean.

The way his plump hand clutched at her hip seemed somehow improper; not morally, aesthetically.

Yes: but aren't love and marriage notoriously synonymous in the minds of most women? Certainly very few men get the first without promising the second: love, that is--if it's just a matter of spreading her legs, almost any woman will do that for nothing.

I think of myself as a stylist, and stylists can become notoriously obsessed with the placing of a comma, the weight of a semicolon.