Norma Jean Quotes

Goodbye Norma Jean From the young man in the 22nd row Who sees you as something more than sexual More than just our Marilyn Monroe

The morning opens, a mist of innocence appears across the countryside that tells each one of us the day is new. That feeling of hope, love and the humble awareness of our duty becomes clear if even for a moment. It is that experience of inspiration that follows us into a small town woken by a cool frost on this Sunday morning and the laughter of children playing.

Lucille,” Norma Jean whispered loud enough for me to hear from my foliage hideout. She leaned over her walker and adjusted her glasses. “Is that Willis Harvey up front by Elsa?” “Well, pinch my pooch, I believe it is,” Lucille said. “I barely recognize him with his clothes on.

The world is entirely magical, the only illusion is that it isn't...

Never in our silent moments of illusion do we sense the dark parallel that lives next to us. Nor do we suspect the carrier.

Rape is the story of Helen, Persephone, Norma Jeane, Troy. War is the context and God is a boy.

In ancient Greek you use the verb ἁρπάζειν, which comes over into Latin as rapio, rapper, raptus sum and gives us English rapture and rape—words stained with the very early blood of girls, with the very late blood of cities, with the hysteria of the end of the world.

Candle In the Wind Author: Bernie Tauplin Goodbye Norma Jeane. Though I never knew you at all. You had the grace to hold yourself While those around you crawled. And they crawled out of the woodwork, And they whispered into your brain, They set you on the treadmill And they made you change your name. And it seems to me you lived your life Like a candle in the wind, Never knowing who to cling to When the rain set in. And I would have liked to have known you But I was just a kid, Your candle burned out long before Your legend ever did. Loneliness was tough. The toughest role you ever played. Hollywood created a superstar And pain was the price you paid. Even when you died The press still hounded you- All the paper had to say Was that Marilyn was found in the nude. Goodbye Norma Jeane. Though I never knew you at all. You had the grace to hold yourself While those around you crawled. Goodbye Norma Jeane. From the young man in the 22nd row Who sees you as something more than sexual, More than just our Marilyn Monroe.

If you pick a flower, if you snatch a handbag, if you possess a woman, if you plunder a storehouse, ravage a countryside or occupy a city, you are a taker. You are taking. In ancient Greek you use the verb άρπάζειν, which comes over into Latin as rapio, rapere, raptus sum and gives us English rapture and rape — words stained with the very early blood of girls, with the very late blood of cities, with the hysteria of the end of the world. Sometimes I think language should cover its own eyes when it speaks.

The poached egg on your plate at breakfast is not dirt. The poached egg on page 202 of the Greek lexicon in the library of the British Museum is dirt.

That’s why male adults, and some females too, experience the presence of a strong woman as a dangerous regression to a time of their own vulnerability and dependence.

Nearly all of the journalistic eulogies that followed Monroe’s death were written by men. So are almost all of the more than forty books that have been published about Monroe.

May 22: Grace pays twenty-five dollars to Nellie Atkinson for Norma Jeane’s care.

Who’s Norma Jean Mortenson?” “Marilyn Monroe!” “Who’s Marilyn Monroe?” “Sex!

Later that evening, Norma Jeane said good night to Bill and returned home. Standing before a mirror she picked up a lipstick and scribbled, ‘This is the end of Norma Jeane.’ Marilyn Monroe was born.

During World War II, a few years after Norma Jeane’s time in an orphanage, thousands of children were evacuated from the air raids and poor rations of London during the Blitz, and placed with volunteer families or group homes in the English countryside or even in other countries. It was only postwar studies comparing these children to others left behind that opened the eyes of many experts to the damage caused by emotional neglect. In spite of living in bombed-out ruins and constant fear of attack, the children who had been left with their mothers and families tended to fare better than those who had been evacuated to physical safety. Emotional security, continuity, a sense of being loved unconditionally for oneself—all those turn out to be as important to a child’s development as all but the most basic food and shelter.

What are we going to do about this mess?” asked Riley, staring at the large pile of dirt and melted table. “I didn't see anything,” said Jess. “The truth is out there,” added Lindy. “Trust no one,” I muttered.

What I really want to say: That what the world really needs is a real feeling of kinship. Everybody: stars, laborers, Negroes, Jews, Arabs. We are all brothers. Please don’t make me a joke. End the interview with what I believe.

If only there wasn’t the war, and rationing! Meat, butter, and sugar were becoming so scarce. Bucky knew it wasn’t Norma Jeane’s fault but in a childlike way he seemed to blame her: men blamed women for meals that weren’t fully satisfying as they blamed women for sex that wasn’t fully satisfying; that’s the way the world is and Norma Jeane Glazer, a bride of less than a year, knew this fact by instinct. But when Bucky liked a meal, he exuded enthusiasm and it was thrilling to her to watch him eat, as a long time ago (it seemed: in fact, not many months ago) she’d been thrilled watching her high school teacher Mr. Haring read her poems, aloud or even silently.

childhood memories are prisms, not panes of glass. Details may loom large in the eyes of our smaller selves, while important events lie beyond our vision or understanding.

In pre-Watergate, pre-sexual revolution times, such stories just weren’t written.

Marilyn supplied sex so that she would be allowed to work, but not so that she wouldn’t have to work.

Di norma una bugia serve a nascondere una verità, magari qualcosa di vergognoso, ma reale. La sua non nascondeva nulla. Sotto il falso dottor Romand non c’era un vero Jean-Claude Romand.

Aristotle thought earthquakes were caused by winds trapped in subterranean caves. We’re more scientific now, we know it’s just five guys fracking the fuck out of the world while it’s still legal.

she is still better known than most living movie stars, most world leaders, and most television personalities. The surprise is that she rarely has been taken seriously enough to ask why that is so.

June 4: Norma Jeane sends Berniece a note saying that she is staying with Ana Lower. She hopes her mother can be released from the hospital soon, and that Berniece will join them in California. Norma Jeane writes to Grace McKee Goddard, explaining she has not worked at Radioplane since January: “The first I know [the photographers] had me out there, taking pictures of me. . . . They all asked where in the H---l I had been hiding.” Conover told her that the pictures “came out perfect.” Conover mentions his contacts in modeling, and Norma Jeane reports, “I told him I would rather not work when Jimmie was here, so he said he would wait, so I’m expecting to hear from him most any time again. He is awfully nice and is married and is strictly business, which is the way I like it. Jimmie seems to like the idea of me modeling, so I’m glad about that.” June

Jean Jacques Rousseau resumió todo en su novela Emilio, la biblia de los sentimientos del siglo XVIII.Rousseau sostenía que cuando buscaba las normas de la conducta en la vida, las encontró en lo más recóndito de su corazón, delineadas por la naturaleza en caracteres que nada puede borrar. Solo he de consultarme a mi mismo en relación con lo que quiero hacer; lo que siento que es bueno, es bueno, lo que siento que es malo, es malo.

It’s even possible that Marilyn was found still breathing, rushed to Santa Monica Hospital by ambulance in an effort to save her, and returned to her own bed only after she was dead. There is some testimony to this on the part of ambulance drivers from a company that had transported Marilyn before. Anthony Summers reports the possibility that her unsuccessful rescuers could have been Robert Kennedy, or Peter Lawford, or both, responding in alarm to a last slurred phone call from Marilyn.

No one has ever offered a better diagnosis of Norma Jeane/Marilyn Monroe than she does in her concluding paragraph: “Its not to much fun to know yourself to well or think you do—everyone needs a little conciet to carry them through & past the falls.” Most of us carry with us some kind of illusion about who we are and what we can accomplish. Certainly this is true in my case. I can think of many writing projects that I would not have completed if I had known, from the start, how much trouble they would entail. So imagine the life of a young woman who did anticipate trouble, who could not help but observe herself, and who chose a profession in which she was on display all the time. Her self-consciousness could be paralyzing and was relieved only by moments of acting when she could embody another being. What a relief it would be to act unconsciously and ultimately, to be unconscious, no longer obliged to carry the burden of self, a burden already shouldered by Norma Jeane when she was still three years away from her first appearance in a motion picture. To carry that same burden as Marilyn Monroe was all the more deadly.

Hear that? Living skulls! What are we doing here? What war at Troy? Does anyone care? Gods of love and hate! Aren't they the same god? All of us, all our lives, searching for the one perfect enemy- you, me, Helen, Paris, Menelaos, all those crazy Greeks! all those hapless Trojans! my dear beloved Jack! Jack and I fought all the time. I remember almost nothing but the fights - every fight a war to end all wars, you know how it goes, a righteous war, a final war, the worst fight you've ever had, you can't do this again, this time you'll get things straight one way or the other or it's over, he'll see what you mean, see you're right, fights aren't about anything except being right, are they? once and for all. You feel old. Wrong. Clumsy. You sit in two chairs on the porch. Or the kitchen. Or the front hall. Hell arrives. It's as if the war was already there, waiting, the two of you poured into it like wet concrete. The chairs you sit in are the wrong chairs, they're the chairs you never sit in because they're so uncomfortable, you keep thinking you should move but you don't, your neck hurts, you hate your neck, evening closes in. Birds move about the yard. Hell yawns. War pours out of both of you, steaming and stinking. You rush backward from it and become children, every still sentence slamming you back into the child you still are, every sentence not what you meant to say at all but the meaning keeps flaring and contracting, as sparks drop on gasoline, Fuckshit this! Fuckshit that! no reason to live. You're getting vertigo. He's being despicable. Your mother was like this. Stop whimpering. No use asking, What is this about? Don't leave the room. I have to leave the room. Breathless, blaming, I'm not blaming! How is this not blaming! Hours pass or do they. You say the same things or are they different things? Hell smells stale. Fights aren't about anything, fights are about themselves. You're stiff. You hate these chairs. Nothing is resolved. It is too dark to see. You both go to bed and doze slightly, touching slightly. In the night a nightmare. Some giant bird, or insect, some flapping thing, trying to settle on the back of your neck, you can't see what it is or get it off. Pure fear. Scream unearthly. He jerks you awake. Oh sweetie, he says. He is using his inside voice, his most inside voice. The distance between that voice and the fight voice measures your whole world. How can a voice change so. You are saved. He has saved you. He sees you saved. An easement occurs, as night dew on leaves. And yet (you think suddenly) you yourself do not possess sort of inside voice - no wonder he's lonely. You this cannot offer this refuge, cannot save him, not ever, and, although physiological in origin, or genetic, or who knows, you understand the lack is felt by him as a turning away. No one can heal this. You both decide without words to just - skip it. You grip one another. In the night, in the silence, the grip slowly loosens and silence washes you out somewhere onto a shore of sleep. Morning arrives. Troy is still there. You hear from below the clatter of everyone putting on their armour. You go to the window.

Jean Granier a remarcat ca Nietzsche opune darwinismului doua observatii: 1) formele inferioare sunt incapabile de a produce forme superioare; 2) cei mediocri si slabi castiga in general the stuggle for life. Sa investigam pentru inceput a doua observatie. «La fel ca la toate celelalte specii animale, si in cazul omului exista un surplus de ratati, bolnavi, degenerati, infirmi, insi haraziti suferintei; si printre oameni reusitele constituie intotdeauna exceptia, si chiar o exceptie rara. Cu cat tipul uman care il reprezinta pe un om este de un grad mai inalt cu atat mai mare este imposibilitatea reusitei sale. Religiile [...] apar printre cauzele principale care au contribuit la mentinerea tipului om pe o treapta inferioara de dezvoltare - ele au conservat prea multi dintre acei care trebuiau sa piara». Cei mediocri si cei slabi sunt mai angrenati, mai implicati in viata, pentru ca sunt mai aproape de imediatul biologic. Spiritualizarea si subtilizarea excesiva duc la un dezacord frapant intre viata si intelect, pe de o parte, si intre exceptie si norma pe de alta. Norma si imediatul biologic dicteaza. Astfel, cei slabi («cei dezavantajati») castiga, fiind inserati intr-un context pe care nu vor sa-l schimbe si care il accepta, fara eforturi. Pe cand omul exceptional este imediat deconspirat drept un organism cancerigen si evacuat cat mai este vreme, pentru ca inteligenta sa actioneaza ca o mutatie. Din punct de vedere socio-psihologic, Nietzsche are dreptate: cei inteligenti esueaza datorita lipsei de motivatie; ei sunt incadrati intr-o schema, a carei banalitate si lipsa de profunzime ii plictiseste.

unyielding—Oh Norma Jeane leads a crazy life, you see—she has a former husband very jealous of her—he is her “ex” but he is

February 10: Norma Jeane sells her white piano to Ana Lower.

January 31: Norma Jeane is awarded a certificate “in recognition of the personal service rendered by her as a member of the [Sawtelle Boulevard] School Safety Committee.

February 14: Chuck Moran sends Norma Jeane a Valentine’s Day card.

February 17: Andre de Dienes publishes a color photograph of Norma Jeane on the cover of Parade. He shoots her from her left side. She is wearing a green sweater and yellow-gold slacks in a strongly diagonal shot that shows her posed against a mountainside, her right and left hands touching a rock face, her right knee bent as though she is climbing. She is smiling and looking directly at the camera. Her sleeves are rolled up, and on her left arm is a lady’s watch. The photograph was taken in Death Valley in 1945.

February 20: Orphanage report on Norma Jeane: “Sometimes she seems anxious and then she begins to stutter. Norma Jean [sic] is also prone to coughing fits and frequent colds . . . if she’s not treated with much patience and constantly reassured, she is prey to panic attacks. I would recommend for her a strong and good family.

February 16: Gladys confirms to Norma Jeane that Stanley Gifford is her father. Norma Jeane writes to Grace that she plans to visit Gifford, who she assumes will be pleased to see her. “It’s something I have to look forward to,” she tells Grace. But he hangs up when she calls him, and Dougherty tries to console his distraught wife.

February 26: Grace McKee Goddard files papers to become Norma Jeane’s legal guardian.

February 26: Grace signs documents to prepare for Norma Jeane’s release from the orphanage.

March 6: Emmeline Snively, head of the Blue Book Modeling Agency, sends Norma Jeane to Joseph Jasgur for test shots. In The Birth of Marilyn, Jeannie Sakol reports Jasgur’s first impressions: “What he saw was not too encouraging. Her hips were too broad and would photograph even broader if he didn’t take special pains. Her loose pink wool sweater and check pedal pushers only exaggerated the imperfections of her figure and emphasized her need to lose some weight. As for her hair, it was thick and wild and reddish brown, its natural curliness obviously impossible to control—although she had equally obviously tried to do just that with a saucy beret. The colour, Jasgur realized, was totally wrong for her blue eyes and peach blossom skin tones. If ever a girl should be blonde it was this girl who was so patiently enduring his professional scrutiny. . . . She didn’t have a chance, he thought, until he looked into her eyes. . . . A lovely vivid blue, they gazed at him with a calm and quiet dignity, neither arrogant nor seductive. There was something there. Jasgur shakes his head with amazement that has never left him in forty-five years. ‘I never thought that something would take her so far.’” He finds her shy and anxious. Other photographers report similar experiences with her. But in front of the camera, Jasgur remembered, “[S]he was relaxed, no trace of self-consciousness. Even in those formative days, I think she trusted the camera more than she trusted people.

April 19: Norma Jeane attends a picnic at Balboa Park with her fellow workers. Photographs show her with long curled hair, standing and sitting in the center of a lineup with four other women, posing for the camera.

April 18: Ethel Dougherty finds a job for Norma Jeane as a typist at Radioplane, a munitions factory that makes drones. But at a speed of only thirty-five words a minute, she does not do well and is assigned to inspecting parachutes. She is paid twenty dollars per week. She works ten hours a day and tells Grace McKee it is hard work because she is on her feet most of the time. But the alternative, a job with the army, was worse because of all the “wolves.

The next day, Mabel and Jet visited the battleground, and then Norma Jean was born, and then she married Leroy and they had a baby, which they lost, and now Leroy and Norma Jean are here at the same battleground. Leroy knows he is leaving out a lot. He is leaving out the insides of history. History was always just names and dates to him. It occurs to him that building a house out of logs is similarly empty—too simple. And the real inner workings of a marriage, like most of history, have escaped him. Now he sees that building a log house is the dumbest idea he could have had. It was clumsy of him to think Norma Jean would want a log house. It was a crazy idea.

Since he has been home, he has felt unusually tender about his wife and guilty over his long absences. But he can’t tell what she feels about him. Norma Jean has never complained about his traveling; she has never made hurt remarks, like calling his truck a “widow-maker.” He is reasonably certain she has been faithful to him, but he wishes she would celebrate his permanent homecoming more happily. Norma Jean is often startled to find Leroy at home, and he thinks she seems a little disappointed about it.

However, the name Norma Jeane wasn’t in the least bit ‘star like’, so it was decided that it would need to be changed. Ben Lyon told her that she reminded him of the actress Marilyn Miller, and decided he’d like her to be called Marilyn. Monroe was her personal choice, since it was her mother’s maiden name.

Si hubiera podido, habría echado a Warren a patadas y se habría quedado con Norma Jeane. Pero, naturalmente, no podía hacerlo. Vivimos en un mundo de hombres y una mujer debe traicionar a sus congéneres para sobrevivir.

Champagne Sheets by Stewart Stafford The little girl who swam with sharks, Receiver clutched in her dead hand, A naked, lonely death in a sterile room, Pill bottles silent witnesses to her end. Did she jump, or did others push her? Tabloid gossip for the masses to echo, Livid without make-up in the mortuary, Stripped of her last vestiges of privacy. Her disturbed mother was never there, She had no siblings or a nurturing father, True love and children evaded her grasp, A fragile shell, now a luminary immortal. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

Oh sweetie, he says. He is using his inside voice, his most inside voice. The distance between that voice and the fight voice measures your whole world.

Ahora bien, si alguno se sale de la costumbre común, enseguida se le abruma con normas, reglas y métodos. Y si él no pasa por ello, y no acepta lo que el arte de la piedad ha establecido, o si no lo observa con constancia, la cosa es clara: todos temen por él, y su camino resulta claramente sospechoso. Ahora bien, ¿no es cosa sabida que todas las prácticas, por buenas y santas que sean, no son, después de todo, sino caminos que conducen a la unión con Dios? ¿Para que, pues, ha de ejercitarse en ellas aquél que no está ya en el camino, sino en la meta? Los pasados métodos han perdido para ella toda su utilidad, y no son más que un camino ya recorrido, que quedó atrás. Exigirle, pues, al alma que vuelva a adoptar aquellos métodos o que continúe siguiéndolos, equivale a pretender que abandone el término al que llegó, para volver al camino que a él le condujo.

Della riendo, diciendo entre jadeos: «¿De qué vale ser una perdida y una puta si a los treinta años no tienes nada?». Y a Norma Jeane le faltaban

Los derechos humanos deberían ser la base de la comunidad internacional. Fijan las normas mínimas en virtud de las cuales hombres procedentes de horizontes diferentes pueden encontrarse, reconocerse y hablarse.

And Norma Jeane, the neurotic woman who created and became "Marilyn Monroe"? She grew up with a typically American adoration of Abraham Lincoln, a perfect father-symbol for orphans everywhere; I suspect that when she climbed into bed with Jack Kennedy she really thought she was climbing into bed with Lincoln and history. Nobody had warned her that History is a blood sport, and the only one in which innocent bystanders are the principal victims.

United States of America were anything but united.

If I could, I surely would Stand on the rock where Moses stood. Pharaoh’s army got drown-ded, Oh, Mary, don’t you weep….

Blue and Aleta were getting married.

Janie’s family was together at last.

Well, the Bible says that God gives us the desires of our hearts. I believe God can put desires in our hearts to show us what He wants us to do with our lives. I certainly believe that making our dreams come true takes hard work.” Ted

I pledge allegiance to my flag and the Republic for which it stands; one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

The existence of a God can almost be proven by chemistry. Look at the atoms, at the orderly way the universe is put together. Could this have happened without a great, intelligent God?

relaxed for the rest of the day.

I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.

Nothing is impossible with Jesus.

This day of revelation Norma Jeane would recall through her life of thirty-six years, sixty-three days, which was to be a life outlived by Gladys as a doll baby might be fitted snug inside a larger doll ingeniously hollowed out for that purpose.

Norma Jeane could understand: men had to have rewards for being men, for risking their lives as men, and these rewards were women. Women at home, waiting for their men. You couldn’t have women fighting alongside men in the war, you couldn’t have women-men. Women-men were freaks. Women-men were obscene. Women-men were lesbians, “lezzies.” A normal man wanted to strangle a lezzie or fuck her till her brains spilled out and her cunt leaked blood. Norma Jeane had heard Bucky and his friends ranting about lezzies, who were worse, almost, than fairies, fags, “preverts.” There was something about these sick, sorry freaks that made a normal healthy man want to lay hands on them and administer punishment.

Oh my darlings, they tell you you’re born with a precious pearl. Truth is, it’s a disaster to be a girl.

I recount as this journey begins where I rest to gather the tale from this same old house resting on the hill, leaving me a view of a carnival once seen from just across the tracks. My pallet is dry now. The colors I see no more. The rain has washed away many of the signs that once stood for a prosper home and family. My grave is waiting. The dreams once filled my head with images of world unison, hope and companionship for all. The saga spoken through my canvas drew darker as the years went on to the bitter cold nights. All that comes to me now are glimpses of faces that graced my soul.

This [June's] account poignantly illustrates many of the multi- faceted, complex, and contradictory processes contained in participants' stories.

June 19: Sunday at 2:30 p.m., Reverend Benjamin Lingenfelder of the Christian Science church marries Norma Jeane and twenty-one-year-old James Dougherty at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Chester Howell. Chester is an attorney and friend of Grace, who chooses the Howell home at 432 South Bentley Avenue in West Los Angeles because it has a spiral staircase that Norma Jeane uses to make a dramatic entrance. Ana Lower makes Norma Jeane’s wedding gown and accompanies her to the altar. Norma Jeane has one bridesmaid, Lorraine Allen, a friend from University High School. No member of Norma Jeane’s family is present, but the Bolenders make an appearance. It is the last time they will see her. After a modest reception at the Florentine Gardens in Hollywood, Norma Jeane and Jim go to their home in Sherman Oaks. Jim Dougherty later recalled that his wife held on to him the entire afternoon. The young couple does not honeymoon but goes for a fishing weekend on Sherwood Lake. On Sundays they attend the Sherman Oaks Christian Science church.

June 26: David Conover photographs Norma Jeane for Yank magazine.

June 7: Norma Jeane leaves the Los Angeles Orphans Home to live with Grace and her husband, Doc Goddard, at 6707 Odessa Avenue in Van Nuys. Norma Jeane hears on the radio that Jean Harlow has died. A drunken Doc Goddard evidently tries to fondle Norma Jeane, who complains to Grace about the abuse. September

June 1: Tuesday, 9:30 a.m., Norma Jeane Mortensen is born at the Los Angeles General Hospital, delivered by Dr. Herman M. Beerman. The birth certificate misspells her last name as Mortenson. The father is identified as Edward Mortenson. His address is listed as “unknown.” At the time, Gladys is separated from her husband. Gladys lists herself as Gladys Monroe (her maiden name), living at 5454 Wilshire Boulevard. Early accounts of Marilyn Monroe’s life drop the final e from Jeane because Marilyn herself tended to do so. Gladys’s friends pay the $140 cost of her hospital stay.

May 25: Norma Jeane writes to Emmeline Snively about meeting Roy Rogers and riding his horse, Trigger. Fans on the Roy Rogers movie set think she is a movie star and ask for her autograph. When she tells them she is not in pictures, “[T]hey think I’m just trying to avoid signing their books, so I sign them.

Business Insider of the Netherlands, Quote and Bastards, Lovers of Marilyn Monroe, really do appreciate Sandra Bland. Party of Freedom and Democracy.

Norma Jeane Mortenson, was looking forward. Yes, she really was.

Leroy used to tell hitchhikers his whole life story — about his travels, his hometown, the baby. He would end with a question: “Well, what do you think?” It was just a rhetorical question. In time, he had the feeling that he’d been telling the same story over and over to the same hitchhikers. He quit talking to hitchhikers when he realized how his voice sounded—whining and self-pitying, like some teenage-tragedy song. Now Leroy has the sudden impulse to tell Norma Jean about himself, as if he had just met her. They have known each other so long they have forgotten a lot about each other. They could become reacquainted. But when the oven timer goes off and she runs to the kitchen, he forgets why he wants to do this.

Epigraphs from Ballroom Dancing: An Erotic Romance of Dominance and Submission "He’s like my father in a way—loves the chase and is bored with the conquest—and once married, needs proof he’s still attractive, so flirts with other women and resents you." —Jacqueline Bouvier, July, 1952, making an observation about her future husband in a letter to her priest “Father L,” the Reverend Joseph Leonard of Dublin, Ireland. "Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday, Mr. President..." —Norma Jeane Mortenson, May 19, 1962, Madison Square Garden, New York City.

June 15: Norma Jeane writes to Grace McKee Goddard, “Of course I know that if it hadn’t been for you we might not have never been married and I know I owe you a lot for that fact alone, besides countless others. . . . I love Jimmie in a different way I suppose than anyone, and I know I shall never be happy with anyone else as long as I live, and I know he feels the same toward me. So you see we are really very happy together, that is of course, when we can be together. We both miss each other terribly.” Marilyn later suggested she was trying to please Grace.

March 26: Grace’s petition to become Norma Jeane’s legal guardian is granted.

Emotional security, continuity, a sense of being loved unconditionally for oneself—all those turn out to be as important to a child’s development as all but the most basic food and shelter.

the majority of all tranquilizer prescriptions are written for women.

Organized crime killed Marilyn Monroe. The idea was to frame and discredit the Kennedy administration, thus ending its drive against the Mafia, crime-controlled unions, and other parts of the crime syndicate. The FBI, CIA, or some right-wing group killed her, with the same motive of framing and discrediting the Kennedys. Why? Because they were too liberal. The Communist Party or other left-wing elements killed her in order to save Robert Kennedy from exposure—a theory of right-wing groups who opposed the Kennedys. The Kennedys killed her to avoid the public sex scandal she was threatening.

It’s even possible that Marilyn was found still breathing, rushed to Santa Monica Hospital by ambulance in an effort to save her, and returned to her own bed only after she was dead. There is some testimony to this on the part of ambulance drivers from a

a quote from The Little Prince: “True love is visible not to the eyes, but to the heart, for eyes may be deceived.

Today’s Children, The Woman in White, and The Guiding Light crossed over and interchanged in respective storylines.) June 2, 1947–June 29, 1956, CBS. 15m weekdays at 1:45. Procter & Gamble’s Duz Detergent. CAST: 1937 to mid-1940s: Arthur Peterson as the Rev. John Ruthledge of Five Points, the serial’s first protagonist. Mercedes McCambridge as Mary Ruthledge, his daughter; Sarajane Wells later as Mary. Ed Prentiss as Ned Holden, who was abandoned by his mother as a child and taken in by the Ruthledges; Ned LeFevre and John Hodiak also as Ned. Ruth Bailey as Rose Kransky; Charlotte Manson also as Rose. Mignon Schrieber as Mrs. Kransky. Seymour Young as Jacob Kransky, Rose’s brother. Sam Wanamaker as Ellis Smith, the enigmatic “Nobody from Nowhere”; Phil Dakin and Raymond Edward Johnson also as Ellis. Henrietta Tedro as Ellen, the housekeeper. Margaret Fuller and Muriel Bremner as Fredrika Lang. Gladys Heen as Torchy Reynolds. Bill Bouchey as Charles Cunningham. Lesley Woods and Carolyn McKay as Celeste, his wife. Laurette Fillbrandt as Nancy Stewart. Frank Behrens as the Rev. Tom Bannion, Ruthledge’s assistant. The Greenman family, early characters: Eloise Kummer as Norma; Reese Taylor and Ken Griffin as Ed; Norma Jean Ross as Ronnie, their daughter. Transition from clergy to medical background, mid-1940s: John Barclay as Dr. Richard Gaylord. Jane Webb as Peggy Gaylord. Hugh Studebaker as Dr. Charles Matthews. Willard Waterman as Roger Barton (alias Ray Brandon). Betty Lou Gerson as Charlotte Wilson. Ned LeFevre as Ned Holden. Tom Holland as Eddie Bingham. Mary Lansing as Julie Collins. 1950s: Jone Allison as Meta Bauer. Lyle Sudrow as Bill Bauer. Charita Bauer as Bert, Bill’s wife, a role she would carry into television and play for three decades. Laurette Fillbrandt as Trudy Bauer. Glenn Walken as little Michael. Theo Goetz as Papa Bauer. James Lipton as Dr. Dick Grant. Lynn Rogers as Marie Wallace, the artist.

The Murder of Marilyn Monroe: Her Lips Were Sealed Until Now - is an Investigative Journal - the format reads more like a documentary with all statements backed-up with official documents-

Marilyn Monroe (born Norma Jeane Mortenson; June 1, 1926 – August 5, 1962) was an American actress, model, and singer, who became a major sex symbol, starring in a number of commercially successful motion pictures during the 1950s and early 1960s. After spending much of her childhood in foster homes, Monroe began a career as a model, which led to a film contract in 1946 with Twentieth Century-Fox. Her early film appearances were minor, but her performances in The Asphalt Jungle and All About Eve (both 1950), drew attention. By 1952 she had her first leading role in Don't Bother to Knock and 1953 brought a lead in Niagara, a melodramatic film noir that dwelt on her seductiveness. Her "dumb blonde" persona was used to comic effect in subsequent films such as Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953), How to Marry a Millionaire (1953) and The Seven Year Itch (1955). Limited by typecasting, Monroe studied at the Actors Studio to broaden her range. Her dramatic performance in Bus Stop (1956) was hailed by critics and garnered a Golden Globe nomination. Her production company, Marilyn Monroe Productions, released The Prince and the Showgirl (1957), for which she received a BAFTA Award nomination and won a David di Donatello award. She received a Golden Globe Award for her performance in Some Like It Hot (1959). Monroe's last completed film was The Misfits, co-starring Clark Gable with screenplay by her then-husband, Arthur Miller. Marilyn was a passionate reader, owning four hundred books at the time of her death, and was often photographed with a book. The final years of Monroe's life were marked by illness, personal problems, and a reputation for unreliability and being difficult to work with. The circumstances of her death, from an overdose of barbiturates, have been the subject of conjecture. Though officially classified as a "probable suicide", the possibility of an accidental overdose, as well as of homicide, have not been ruled out. In 1999, Monroe was ranked as the sixth greatest female star of all time by the American Film Institute. In the decades following her death, she has often been cited as both a pop and a cultural icon as well as the quintessential American sex symbol. 수면제,액상수면제,낙태약,여성최음제,ghb물뽕,여성흥분제,남성발기부전치유제,비아,시알,88정,드래곤,바오메이,정력제,남성성기확대제,카마그라젤,비닉스,센돔,,꽃물,남성조루제,네노마정,러쉬파퍼,엑스터시,신의눈물,lsd,아이스,캔디,대마초,떨,마리화나,프로포폴,에토미데이트,해피벌륜 등많은제품판매하고있습니다 원하시는제품있으시면 추천상으로 더좋은제품으로 모시겠습니다 qwe114.c33.kr 카톡【ACD5】텔레【KKD55】 I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together

Harriet was lean and graceful in a white summer dress that demonstrated her legs to good effect. An elegant lady; mildly effervescent in the manner Norma Jean had been in her time, with a curled blonde bob and Nordic blue eyes. Twenty years my senior, her smoldering sex appeal hit like a punch to the sternum. That appeal wasn’t ornamental; she deployed it like a weapon. At point-blank range, the strength of her personality crackled even more so than the charm she’d radiated in a score of thriller and crime flicks. A consummate performer, she’d switched between damsel in distress and femme fatale with ease.

lack of self-confidence, a feeling of being unsuited to power, is the emotional training that helps to keep any less-than-equal group in its place.