"Wellesley girls. . . . oh, those creatures!" Polly Moran's eyes narrowed and expressed what words could not "Menace! That's the word I want--that's what those girls are!" she snapped so that her curl papers shook.
"No son of mine will over go to Harvard, no indeed, not with them around. My son wants to go to your school, but you can bet I'm not going to let him. He is the studious type, a sort of historian, so I'm going to send him to Stanford."
"Gin and jazz--now everything is gin and jazz. Why, even fourteen-year-olds go out and drink cheap liquor these days. I guess the Dionne quintuplets are about the only innocents left, but I don't know."
When asked what role she would enjoy playing most, Miss Moran's eyes sparkled, "A giddy dowager," she exclaimed. "I think I would at that part to a T." A smile played over her lips as she considered the idea. "And I'd do that with Bill Fields; he's a grand comedian." The actress broke off to reminisce about her experiences when touring Europe with Fields before the War.
"Hollywood--it's a dull place; I don't stay there much." Miss Moran dispelled the popular notion that actors are overworked and termed life in the film colony a lazy existence. "People talk about the glamour of Hollywood--take it from me there isn't such a thing."
Queried on the reaction of the players to the percent reform movement, the actress declared that it was well received since there was great dissatisfaction with the offensiveness of these pictures. "Movies and politics were alike," she twigged "they both needed cleaning up."