Do you know New York stifles me? It makes me so unhappy. There are so many things I want, and so many things I cannot afford to have. I don't see how people ever have money enough to live here.

I'd like to make people who see me in comic pantomime on the screen feel the way Mark Twain makes his readers feel.

I wanted to be a tragedienne. I only wanted sad parts. When mother read the press notices when I was on the road, saying I was a 'comedienne,' the tears rolled down my cheeks. I thought comedians had to have black on their faces, or red beards . . .

I mean what good does it do anyone to kill themselves working, because the worms will get you in the end.

We do not get paid the exorbitant salaries folk believe, but because of our wealthy reputation we are made to suffer by dentists, doctors, lawyers, milliners. . . . I had two tiny cavities filled; my dentist charged me $350 for less than an hour's work!