If they tell you that she died of sleeping pills you must know that she died of a wasting grief, of a slow bleeding at the soul.
Sex - the poor man's polo.
One night some short weeks ago, for the first time in her not always happy life, Marilyn Monroe's soul sat down alone to a quiet supper from which it did not rise.
You make me feel too human, Joe. All I want is peace and quiet, not love. I'm a tired old lady, Joe, and I don't mind being what you call "half dead." In fact it's what I like. The twice I was in love...