I've given my memoirs far more thought than any of my marriages. You can't divorce a book.
Sunset Boulevard opened in August 1950, and it was pronounced the best movie ever made about Hollywood.
Sam Wood, the director, made most of his money as a real estate agent; there was nothing of the temperamental artist about him.
One of the networks sent me a TV set to watch. I didn't care for the medium. It depressed me.
Nobody gets anything for nothing.
My sculpture is very personal; for years my subjects were family and close, close friends.
The Paramount executives were so pleased with Sunset Boulevard that they asked me to do a publicity tour.
I was the first celebrity in pictures to be marrying a titled European.
If you're 40 years old and you've never had a failure, you've been deprived.
In two months Joseph Kennedy had taken over my entire life, and I trusted him implicitly to make the most of it.
Life and death. They are somehow sweetly and beautifully mixed, but I don't know how.
My mother and I could always look out the same window without ever seeing the same thing.
My greatest debt will always be to the movie-going public of yesterday and today, without whose love and devotion I would have had no story to tell.
When I die, my epitaph should read: She Paid the Bills. That's the story of my private life.
The day I initiated divorce proceedings against Michael Farmer, I was ready to retire to a desert cave and rethink my life.