"We shook hands, made polite conversation and exchanged phone numbers before going our separate ways. I remember thinking her an exceptionally good looking girl, but London was full of good looking girls." - When they first met.
"Sharon moved in with me shortly after easter. It was a gradual process, little by little her clothes began to accumulate in my bedroom closet then she suggested making it semi-permanent. 'Don't worry', she told me, 'I won't swallow you up like some ladies do', knowing my fear of possessive women, she made it clear in all sorts of ways that she understood my lifestyle and had no intention of cramping it. I'd never received such assurance from anyone else. The vast majority of our friends were delighted that Sharon had moved in with me, the only person who had advertised his disapproval was Marty Ransohoff. He himself may have had designs on Sharon, a thought that possibility didn't occur to me till later."
"It wasn't just her looks that captivated them, though her beauty was breathtaking and her mini-skirts emphasized her marvellous legs. She was among the first to flaunt these symbols of sexual freedom of the sixties. When Sharon appeared in a mini-skirt, the whole street would turn and stare, men with admiration, women with envy, elderly matrons with vitriolic disapproval, old men with nostalgic appreciation. There was far more to Sharon than a lovely face and a sexy figure, what enchanted me about her as much as anything was her immutable good nature, her natural high spirits of people and animals - of life itself. She was also a born housewife, aside from cooking like a dream, she used to cut my hair, a skill acquired from Jay Sebring. She always knew exactly what to put in so much so that I can never pack or unpack, even today, without thinking of her."
"Although she never mentioned marriage and despite her liberated California lifestyle, I knew that her catholic upbringing made marriage important to her. I proposed off the cuff over dinner in a restaurant. The date we settled on - January 20 1968 - fell a few days before her twenty-fifth birthday. We decided to get married in London; that was my real home and the place where most of our friends lived"
"The wedding ceremony turned into a media event with photographers outnumbering the guests. Sharon wore a cream coloured taffeta mini-dress and I sported an olive green Edwardian jacket. There were several parties afterwards, the biggest of them all, at the Playboy Club, was attended by what seemed like the whole of London and half of Hollywood. Halfway through the festivities Sharon and I bowed out, we couldn't take anymore parties or champagne so we headed for West Eaton Place Mews and holed up in our house, which was littered with gifts, flowers and congratulatory telegrams."
"The solitude of my intensive work on the script was relieved by daily calls from Sharon, who was house hunting in LA. Before long she told me she'd found a marvellous place - a bit expensive, she said, but could she go ahead and sign the lease? It was one of those old Santa Monica mansions on Ocean Front, just off Pacific Coast Highway. The rent was a wild extravagance, I didn't really need such a large house, nor was it really my style. I'd have much preferred something more modern, but at least this caricature of a Hollywood mansion was good for a laugh among friends. Besides, Sharon's delight in it was all that mattered to me."
"If the truth was told, I was rather thrown by the news. A child seemed such a luxury, such an important event, that I felt it deserved the same careful planning as a film. I wanted the circumstances to be just right - bigger house and adequate time for preperation. What was more, Sharon had contracted to make a picture with Vittorio Gassman in Rome and in London and I knew that her pregnancy would be obvious by the time the shooting ended, I urged her to tell the director, but she wouldn't, 'Everything's going to be fine' she said soothingly."
"The baby had become the focal point of her life, she read every available book on childbirth and baby care and went on a marathon-buying spree for baby clothes. Quite unabashed by her appearance, she didn't object to being photographed, in fact, she revelled in it. Our conversations revolved around the unborn child, I wanted a girl, but she was convinced it would be a boy."
"We spent our last evening together at Harry Saltzman's newly opened restaurant overlooking the Thames. Sharon had never looked more beautiful. The last picture I have of her, taken only a few days before she sailed, is a little Polaroid test for a photo portrait due to appear on the cover of Queen magazine."
"Something about this parting made it different from the other and both of us had tears in our eyes. 'Okay, go now', she said abruptly, we walked down the companionway to the main exit, she hugged me tightly, pressing her belly against me in a way she'd never done before, as if to remind me of the baby. As I held and kissed her, a grotesque thought flashed through my mind : 'You'll never see her again'. If nothing had happened, I might have no recollection of this premonition, as it is, the memory remains indelible."
"There are little things, like packing a suitcase or getting my hair cut or dialling the 213 code for California or the 396 code for Rome, that invariably steer my thoughts back to Sharon. Even after so many years I find myself unable to watch a spectacular sunset or visit a lovely old house or experience visual pleasure of any kind without instinctively telling myself how much she would have loved it all. In these ways I shall remain faithful to her till the day I die."