I've given my memoirs far more thought than any of my marriages. You can't divorce a book.
When I die, my epitaph should read: She Paid the Bills.
I always anticipated difficulties in order to avoid scenes.
Sunset Boulevard opened in August 1950, and it was pronounced the best movie ever made about Hollywood.
The Paramount executives were so pleased with Sunset Boulevard that they asked me to do a publicity tour.
I had starred in more than 30 successful films, six in a row directed by Cecil B. De Mille.
Much as I cared for Joseph Kennedy, he was a classic example of that person in the arts with lots of brains and drive but little taste or talent.
I doubted that there were Communists hiding behind every corporation desk and director's chair.
I entered the cosmetics industry because I wanted more women to use cosmetics made with safe, healthful ingredients.
I didn't want to spend the rest of my life playing Norma Desmond over and over again.
Writing the story of your own life is a bit like drilling your own teeth.
When I die, my epitaph should read: She Paid the Bills. That's the story of my private life.
The fuss that actors began making about the difficulty of shifting to sound struck me as perfectly foolish.
Fame was thrilling only until it became grueling. Money was fun only until you ran out of things to buy.
In two months Joseph Kennedy had taken over my entire life, and I trusted him implicitly to make the most of it.
The day I initiated divorce proceedings against Michael Farmer, I was ready to retire to a desert cave and rethink my life.
All they had to do was put my name on a marquee and watch the money roll in.
I am a very pragmatic person.
The English press treated the world premiere of my first talking picture as a major event.
I consider anybody who weighs over 200 pounds fat, and time was when I could not refrain from telling such people so.