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So, I think that Marilyn, what she gave the world, and in many ways Kennedy too, was that they had dreams and they didn't allow anybody to take away their dreams.

The real Jack Johnson was both more and less than those who loved or those who hated him ever knew. He embodied American individualism in its purest form; nothing - no law or custom, no person white or black, male or female - could keep him for long from whatever he wanted.

I'm not sure I can explain the nature of Jack Kennedy's charm, but he took life just as it came.

My grandfather was raising me, and in many respects, I was trying to understand what it meant to be a man. He was my role model.

He was a dreamer, a thinker, a speculative philosopher... or, as his wife would have it, an idiot.

I have never known a man who was sensual in his youth, who was high-minded when old.

I didn't know Jack Kennedy that well, but Bobby was a hero to me.

I had the fixation that comes with being a Kennedy to be a great man on the big stage.