Bette Davis Quotes
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Some young Hollywood starlets remind me of my grandmother's old farmhouse -- all painted up nice on the front side, a big swing on the backside, and nothing whatsoever in the attic.
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In this rat-race everybody's guilty till proved innocent!
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With the newspaper strike on, I wouldn't consider dying.
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Never, never trust anyone who asks for white wine. It means they're phonies.
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Getting old is not for sissies.
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Gay Liberation? I ain't against it, it's just that there's nothing in it for me.
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There's only one way to work -- like hell.
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Technicolor makes me look like death warmed over.
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The male ego with few exceptions is elephantine to start with.
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I love my profession. I would never stop. Relax? I relax when I work. It's my life.
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I don't think of myself as a character actress - that's become a phrase which means you've had it.
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To look back is to relax one's vigil.
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I survived because I was tougher than anybody else.
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I will never be below the title.
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If you want a thing done well, get a couple of old broads to do it.
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May each of my grandsons know, at an early age, what his life's ambition is - and may he be successful in his pursuit of that goal.
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I was never very interested in boys - and there were plenty of them - vying with one another to see how many famous women they would get into the hay.
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I was so uncomfortable at a party recently when the conversation droned on about women who are constantly getting married. I was on the edge of my chair, close to squirming in embarrassment because I myself was guilty of four husbands. I finally leaned forward and squeaked, 'But one died!
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Life is the past, the present and the perhaps.
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She did it the hard way.
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People stood on their chairs, cheering and waving. And it was all for me! Waves of love flooded the stage and washed over me. I started to cry. The sweetness of such a moment is impossible to describe. One is both lover and beloved. ... I'd found the one true, enduring romance of my life.
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I'm the nicest goddamn dame that ever lived.
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I am doomed to an eternity of compulsive work. No set goal achieved satisfies. Success only breeds a new goal. The golden apple devoured has seeds. It is endless.
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Without discipline and detachment, an actor is an emotional slob, spilling his insides out. This abandonment is having an unfortunate vogue. It is tasteless, formless, absurd. Without containment there is no art. All this vomiting and wheezing and bursting at the seams is no more great acting than the convulsions of raving maniacs.