Exploitation is a harsh word, I know that, but on a certain level, to me that is the central Hollywood story.

Rock 'n' roll. Deal with it.

I had all the characteristics of a human being—flesh, blood, skin, hair—but my depersonalization was so intense, had gone so deep, that my normal ability to feel compassion had been eradicated, the victim of a slow, purposeful erasure. I was simply imitating reality, a rough resemblance of a human being, with only a dim corner of my mind functioning

We buy balloons, we let them go.

No one is drawn to writing about being happy or feelings of joy.

Why would I care what other people are thinking? I don't care what an audience thinks of me.

What keeps me interested--and it always does--is how can she be a bad actress on film but a good one in reality?