I must hurry back to my house and my flowers in Monaco.

It was so kind of you to mention that I don't wear stays. What's the point? If you squeeze it in at one point, it only comes out at the other.

I am a grandmother now, and that means age is creeping on, creeping on.

I've put in as many as 40 weeks a year on stage. It is lonely and restricted, as all artistic life must necessarily be.

Feed the dogs. I hate to hear them barking like that.

The most lasting and pure gladness comes to me from my gardens.

Will I return to England? I don't know. I'll think it over.

I know I am at the end. I shall never get better, dear.

After being so bad I could hear the angels singing.

They saw me, those reckless seekers of beauty, and in a night I was famous.

Said I was beautiful, did he? He's being paid for treatment, not flattery.

I am happy as happiness goes, for a woman who has so many memories and who lives the lonely life of an actress.

I have known great things and wonderful persons, and I have known homage.

I have always been willing to take the blame for the things I have done.

It's the first time I've seen myself act, and I can't say I'm impressed.

Anyone's life truly lived consists of work, sunshine, exercise, soap, plenty of fresh air, and a happy contented spirit.

I must hurry back to my house and my flowers in Monaco.

On one night of my debut the Prince of Wales, the Princess, and the duchess of London came to see me. They loved me for what I was and what I gave them.

My husband is a general's chauffeur somewhere in France.

I'm not afraid. I never liked long last acts.

My agent tells me I am drawing the largest salary ever paid in the halls of England. Wonderful, isn't it? for a quiet, rural gardener like myself.

I was beautiful. Now, because I am old, I take no shame in so saying.

The sentimentalist ages far more quickly than the person who loves his work and enjoys new challenges.

No person in the world ever lost anything by being nice to me.

I found my interest lapse in both acting and racing.

I do not regret one moment of my life.

Anyone who limits her vision to memories of yesterday is already dead.

Sympathy is charming, but it does not make up for pain.

I felt weary of the responsibility of owning houses and was glad enough to pass mine on to others.

You wouldn't believe how the town was named for me. I was met by the whole population, headed by the mayor.

I shall fulfill my contract, no more nor less.

Why in the world would anyone want to photograph an old woman like me?

I like to take pictures of lots of things: people-such as my nephews, my dogs, and just interesting objects that I see. For instance, I might take a picture of flowers by the side of the road, an old sign or a fence.

The mare set off for home with the speed of a swallow, and going as smoothly and silently. I never had dreamed of such a motion, fluent and graceful, and ambient, soft as the breeze flitting over the flowers, but swift as the summer lightening.

I don't like painting flowers in my music. I like painting guts and pain.

For myself I hold no preferences among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. Bricks to all greenhouses! Black thumb and cutworm to the potted plant!

I'm a hopeless romantic, and very much the person in a relationship to go: If things are going well, I'll buy the flowers, remember the dates of things, plan fun nights out.

Because we are in a war situation, this can sometimes be dangerous work. But guys like A.D. Flowers and his technicians just take it in stride and get on with the job. In four years, we've never had a serious accident or injury working with all the explosions.

The earth laughs in flowers.

With a few flowers in my garden, half a dozen pictures and some books, I live without envy.

And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.

Flowers grow out of dark moments.

Children in a family are like flowers in a bouquet: there's always one determined to face in an opposite direction from the way the arranger desires.

The cloning of humans is on most of the lists of things to worry about from Science, along with behaviour control, genetic engineering, transplanted heads, computer poetry and the unrestrained growth of plastic flowers.

Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air.

Flowers are the sweetest things God ever made and forgot to put a soul into.

I went across the fields to avoid the straight highways, along the firing lines where people were shooting at a small wooded hill, which is now covered with wooden crosses and lines of graves instead of spring flowers.

The advice I am giving always to all my students is above all to study the music profoundly... music is like the ocean, and the instruments are little or bigger islands, very beautiful for the flowers and trees.

Let a hundred flowers bloom.