I always wanted to be a movie star. I thought it meant being famous and having breakfast in bed. I didn't know you had to be up at 4:00 a.m.
I lisp. My eyes disappear when I smile. My voice is funny. I don't sing like Judy Garland. I don't dance like Cyd Charisse. But women identify with me. And while men desire Cyd Charisse, they'd take me home to meet Mom.
In real life I'm a poor dressmaker and a terrible cook, anything in fact but the perfect wife.
Because of the wealth of fine music spread through the film, working on it held all the fun and excitement of attending a great concert
The only parental authority I had was the studio. When I was a star, there was always somebody with me, to guard me. I was not allowed to be photographed with a cigarette, a drink, a cup of coffee or even a glass of water because someone might think it was liquor. When I left the studio I was already married and had two children, but I felt as sad as a child leaving home for the first time.
[On Ronald Reagan:] Jane Wyman seemed more upset with her husband's obsession with politics than I. I tried to make her laugh. 'He'll outgrow it,' I told her. To her it wasn't funny.
The role of Barbara, in Music for Millions, was literally a tonic for me
So, to prepare for the role, I had to take music lessons, talk to wives who had husbands overseas, and carefully study the reactions and mannerisms of a friend who was expecting.
For the first time in my life I feel important. I'd like to have five babies
I'm not a career woman.
I'd just as soon stay home and raise babies
I don't like to fight.
