There are no sure answers, only better questions.
Unfortunately, the spouses of performers have a terrible, terrible life. They get shunted aside, pushed aside, ignored.
I love musicals, but I find it's just so deadening. You know, 30 takes, you do a little piece here and a little piece there. There's hours and hours of waiting. And to me, that's as far away from real performance as you can get.
Television's going, as far as I'm concerned, downhill, and I'm an anachronism.
My wife didn't like Hollywood or its stars, but she made an exception when, in 1972, we were invited to dinner - cooked by Frank Sinatra.
Here's the truth. Your teens and twenties are your Plan A. At 50, you're assessing whether Plan B or Plan C or any of the other plans you hatched actually worked. Your sixties and seventies, they're an improvisation.
I have a lot of friends who say that one of the freedoms of being older is you don't care what other people think, which I don't think is right. You care what other people think, but if you're comfortable in your own skin, that doesn't bother you.
I pay attention to the news. I take the 'New York Times.' I do the Saturday crossword.
The American people hit the streets and did something that the government wouldn't do: the Civil Rights Act. It didn't go down well with the corporate world.