You'll Catch Your Death Of

Clouseau: Does Yer Dewg Bite? Inn Keeper: No Clouseau: Nice Doggy (bends Down To Pet A Dachshund - It Snarls And Bites Him) I Thought You Said Yer Dewg Did Not Bite! Inn Keeper: Zat . . . Iz Not My Dog!

If I Can't Really Find A Way To Live With Myself, I Can't Expect Anyone Else To Live With Me.

Conversation Like Television Set On Honeymoon... Unnecessary.

I Writhe When I See Myself On The Screen. I'm Such A Dreadfully Clumsy Hulking Image. I Say To Myself, "why Doesn't He Get Off? Why Doesn't He Get Off?" I Mean, I Look Like Such An Idiot. Some Fat Awkward Thing Dredged Up From Some Third-rate Drama Company. I Must Stop Thinking About It, Otherwise I Shan't Be Able To Go On Working.

If You Ask Me To Play Myself, I Will Not Know What To Do. I Do Not Know Who Or What I Am.