“Down through the years my face has been called a sour puss, a dead pan, a frozen face, The Great Stone Face, and, believe it or not, "a tragic mask." On the other hand that kindly critic, the late James Agee, described my face as ranking "almost with Lincoln's as an early American archetype, it was haunting, handsome, almost beautiful." I can't imagine what the great rail splitter's reaction would have been to this, though I sure was pleased.”

“I don't act, anyway. The stuff is all injected as we go along. My pictures are made without script or written directions of any kind”

“Silence is of the gods; only monkeys chatter.”

“Finally, after we were soaked through, he lifted his head and stared down at me, his hands cupping my face. "I thought you'd tell me to f*** off, and you'd leave. I thought every word I spoke was the last time I'd see you.""Please. I can deal. Do you have any idea how screwed up I am?"His crooked smile transformed his face. "Yeah. I've got some idea."My belly went warm again. Sebastian kissed me, his lips wet from the rain.”

“Breaking the kiss when she had reached the point where she had begun to hope he would never stop, he surged over her and she felt his need digging into her belly as he burrowed his face against her neck. "Don't torture me anymore. I am repentant. I swear."She opened her eyes to look at him as he lifted his head.His features were drawn and harsh with painful need. "I have never been more miserable in my life, Mellie, and the only way you could possibly make me more miserable is to leave where I can not even see you."Lifting a hand, she stroked his hard cheek. He turned his face into her palm, kissing it. "Don't make beg, Mellie.""Why?"A pained look flickered across his features. "Because I will, and my ego might never recover.”

“I barely knew Sebastian. You knew him enough to suck face. ”

“As a beauty I'm not a great star. Others are handsomer far; but my face --I don't mind it because I'm behind it; it the folks out in front that I jar.”