[on Colin Clive] Colin Clive was the dearest, kindest (in the real meaning of the word 'kind') man, who gave you importance. He was so wonderful, so clever. When he started acting in a scene, I wanted to stop and just watch... I'd think, " Here I am, playing scenes with this marvelous actor! Mr. Whale would say, "Colin's voice is like a pipe organ... I just pull out the stops, and he produces the music."
Colin was electric. I was mesmerized by him - so much so that I hoped it didn't show! When he looked at me, I'd flush. He had a wife back in England, and I had my young man (of the "Waterloo Bridge" premiere.) In fact, I was glad my fiancé was at the premiere that night - to be my good anchor against my stormy waves of fancy for Colin.
He was the handsomest man I ever saw - and also the saddest. Colin's sadness was elusive; the sadness you see if you contemplate many of the master painters' and sculptors' conceptions of the face of Christ - the ultimate source in my view of all sadness.
