Marilyn photographed in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, 1953.
Her inflections came as surprising twists and every emotion was in full bravura, acted out with exuberant gestures. Across her face flashed anger, wistfullness, bravado, tenderness, ruefulness, high humor and deep sadness. And each idea usually ended in a startling turn of thought, with her laugh rising to a delightful squeak. "I think I have always had a little humor,” said Marilyn. "I guess sometimes people just sort of questioned, ‘does she know what she’s saying,’ and sometimes you do all of a sudden think about something else and you didn’t mean to say it exactly. I’m pointing at me. I don’t digest things with my mind. If I did, the whole thing wouldn’t work. Then I’d just be kind of an intellectual and that I’m not interested in.”
At this point I began to see that Marilyn did nothing by halves. Of her millions of fans she said, "The least I can is give them the best they can get from me. What’s the good of drawing in the next breath if all you do is let it out and draw in another?" I could also see how important it was to her to feel that the person she talked to "understood.”
-“A Last Long Talk With a Lonely Girl” by Richard Meryman for Life Magazine, August 17, 1962