All in the Family was intellectual; it was art.
Both my brothers became physicians and I, of course, wandered into a business where the undisciplined are welcome.
Conventional show-biz savvy held that Americans hated to be the objects of satire.
Even a true artist does not always produce art.
Half the pictures directed by men of reputation fail.
I do talk less now because the sound of my voice saying over and over the things I said years ago embarrasses and depresses me. Why do I say the same things over and over?
I enjoyed in every way my 12 years of playing Archie, and I wasn’t personally sad about finishing a long job.
I hate pride, but if I were going to be proud of anything it would have to be something I’d done myself. Race pride is kind of stupid.
I have heard show business characterized as a refuge for childlike persons in flight from all things harsh and real.
I’m lucky. Lord, I’m lucky.
I’ve run into some S.O.B. directors, but I gave them back as good as I got.
In a capitalist society, persons who create capital, like Michael Eisner, are given the staggering rewards.
It seems that entertainment is what most excites us and what we value above everything else.
It was a lack of system that made the ’30s Depression as inevitable as all others previously suffered.
Millions of people thought Archie was a happy hero.
My Irish derivation has nothing to do with me. Why should it?
My professional life in Hollywood has been filled with joy and laughter.
Nations have come under the control of haters and fools.
Not all celebrities are dunces.
One irreducible residual of 38 years in the business is the number of lasting, loving friendships I have made.
Sheer flattery got me into the theater. Flattery always works with me, particularly the flattery of women.
Some people thought we were presenting Archie as a false character. President Nixon thought we were making a fool out of a good man.
Talent can be developed, gift is God-given. But artists have both.
The reviewer is a singularly detested enemy because he is, unlike the hapless artist, invulnerable.
The wages of pedantry is pain.
Those offers come in now and again. They’re not knocking down my door. I’m only an old character actor, and I’m not needed.
Vulgar and obscene, the papers run rumors daily about people in show business, tales of wicked ways and witless affairs.
We don’t really need reviewers, just first-night reporters who will tell us faithfully whether or not the audience liked the show.
