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No one likes to admit it, but Hollywood is the only place you don't get locked up for being crazy.
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D.W. Buffa |
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voluptuaries,
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D.W. Buffa |
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Walsh was too full of his own--how shall I put it?--posthumous importance; too convinced that he should be seen almost as much a victim as his daughter, to confine himself to the truth. He would embellish things to put himself in the best possible light.
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D.W. Buffa |
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and I knew better than I had ever known before, knew with all the reluctant certainty of a broken heart, that the intimate affection of a husband--and perhaps even the innocent love of a child--could never compete with the thrill she got from the adulation of strangers.
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D.W. Buffa |