As I've said before, there used to be a great newspaper in New York. It was called the "New York Times". I have no idea what the hell happened to it.
From today's obituary for the late Paul Scofield (an actor whose reputation towered over Olivier, Gielgud, and Richardson in their prime):
He received his secondary education at Varndean School in nearby Brighton and, at 13, made his debut as Juliet in “Romeo and Juliet” on the school stage. “I had to wear an embarrassing blond wig,” he said. “But it was a turning point, because thenceforward there was nothing else I wanted to do.”
One might get the impression, from the context of this quote, that Scofield decided not to take any more roles after his fiasco as Juliet. One would be wrong, of course, since Scofield illuminated the screens and stage for decades after his teenage debut. I don't know who to blame this ambiguity on; I suppose I should blame Mr. Scofield, but I'm generally not one to speak ill of the dead.
So it's the Times's fault.
And there's more.