Saying you’re an alcoholic and an addict is like saying you’re from Los Angeles and from California.
You know how I always seem to be struggling, even when the situation doesn’t call for it?
Actors may know how to act, but a lot of them don’t know how to behave.
I have the ability, occasionally, of being able to step out and see who you think I could end up being. And I like to play with that.
I have a mess in my head sometimes, and there’s something very satisfying about putting it into words. Certainly it’s not something that you’re in charge of, necessarily, but writing about it, putting it into your words, can be a very powerful experience.
I was born into big celebrity. It could only diminish.
I enjoy taking jobs that make fun of me – or me as Princess Leia, or me as the writer, or whatever, as some idea.
I am a spy in the house of me. I report back from the front lines of the battle that is me. I am somewhat nonplused by the event that is my life.
He’s a very strange guy, my father. I can’t get mad at him because he’s so adorable.
Females get hired along procreative lines. After 40, we’re kind of cooked.
Anything you can do in excess for the wrong reasons is exciting to me.
Mothers are great. They outlast everything. But when they’re bad, they’re the worst thing that can happen.
No, as it turns out, I really like being congratulated on my weight loss. I like it so much, it’s tragic.
I think of my body as a side effect of my mind.
I like performing. I like partnering with an audience.
I really love the internet. They say chat-rooms are the trailer park of the internet but I find it amazing.
My father was a joyous, joyous spirit, he really was. He was a hedonist, that was just – he enjoyed life, thrust up to the elbows with it. He was a terrible father. I don’t know that he was parented that well.
Sometimes I think all I want to find is a mean guy and make him be nice to me. Or maybe a nice guy who’s a little bit mean to me. But they’re usually too nice too soon or too mean too long.
Sometimes I feel like I’ve got my nose pressed up against the window of a bakery, only I’m the bread.
What worries me is, what if this guy is really the one for me and I just haven’t had enough therapy yet for me to be comfortable with having found him.