American Journalist: Hello, they said you were on the beach. Thank you for granting this interview. Edith Piaf: My pleasure. American Journalist: It’s odd to see you so far from Paris. Edith Piaf: I’m never far from Paris. American Journalist: I’ve a list of questions. Answer whatever comes to mind. Well…what’s you favorite color? Edith Piaf: Blue American Journalist: What’s your favorite dish? Edith Piaf: Pot Roast. American Journalist: Would you agree to live a sensible life? Edith Piaf: It is already the case American Journalist: Who are your most faithful friends? Edith Piaf: My true friends are my most faithful. American Journalist: If you could no longer sing…? Edith Piaf: …I could no longer live. American Journalist: Are you afraid of death? Edith Piaf: Less than solitude. American Journalist: Do you pray? Edith Piaf: Yes, because I believe in love. American Journalist: What is your fondest career memory? Edith Piaf: Eve...
He also experimented in boiling codeine cough syrup down to a black mash - that didn’t work too well. He spent long hours with Shakespeare - the "Immortal Bard," he called him - on his lap. In New Orleans he had begun to spend long hours with the Mayan Codices on his lap, and, although he went on talking, the book lay open all the time. I said once, "What’s going to happen to us when we die?" and he said, "When you die you’re just dead, that’s all." He had a set of chains in his room that he said he used with his psychoanalyst; they were experimenting with narcoanalysis and found that Old Bull had seven separate personalities, each growing worse and worse on the way down, till finally he was a raving idiot and had to be restrained with chains. The top personality was an English lord, the bottom the idiot. Halfway he was an old Negro who stood in line, waiting with everyone else, and said, "Some’s bastards, some’s ain’t, that’s the score."
~ On ...
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