Grumbling is the death of love
If there is a supreme being, he's crazy.
Habit: Often mistaken for love.
[On Las Vegas:] I love that town. No clocks. No locks. No restrictions.
Lover's words: “How beautiful you are, now that you love me.”
The Germans and I no longer speak the same language.
There's something about an American soldier you can't explain. They're so grateful for anything, even a film actress coming to see them.
Until they come to see us from their planet, I wait patiently. I hear them saying: Don't call us, we'll call you.
I have a child and I've made a few people happy. That is all.
I, personally, liked the legend.
Do let him read the papers. But not while you accusingly tiptoe around the room, or perch much like a silent bird of prey on the edge of your most uncomfortable chair. (He will read them anyway, and he should read them, so let him choose his own good time.) Don't make a big exit. Just go. But kiss him quickly, before you go, otherwise he might think you are angry; he is used to suspecting he is doing something wrong.
The average man is more interested in a woman who is interested in him than he is in a woman with beautiful legs.
Courage and grace is a formidable mixture. The only place to see it is the bullring.
What remains is solitude.
[On Orson Welles:] When I talk to him, I feel like a plant that's been watered.
Morocco: Looks better in films.
America took me into her bosom when there was no longer a country worthy of the name, but in my heart I am German - German in my soul.
It is my private life which no one knows anything about, nor ever will. It needs more than half my time if it is to be a success.
A new kind of award has been added -- the deathbed award. It is not an award of any kind. Either the recipient has not acted at all, or was not nominated, or did not win the award the last few times around. It is intended to relieve the guilty conscience of the Academy members and save face in front of the public. The Academy has the horrible taste to have a star, choking with emotion, present this deathbed award so that there can be no doubt in anybody's mind why the award is so hurriedly given. Lucky is the actor who is too sick to watch the proceedings on television.
A king, realizing his incompetence, can either delegate or abdicate his duties. A father can do neither. If only sons could see the paradox, they would understand the dilemma.
Victory is gay only back home. Up front it is joyless.
Superstitions are habits rather than beliefs.
It's the friend you call up at four o'clock in the morning that really matters.
The relationship between the make-up man and the film actor is that of accomplices in crime
I'm worth more dead than alive. Don't cry for me after I'm gone; cry for me now.
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