I think that now most people know someone in their family that is coping with something, but there is still a tremendous amount of shame - that one is still regarded as a defective unit ... if only they would pull up their bootstraps - they are only indulging their emotions, everybody's moody, blah, blah, blah.

Mania starts off fun, not sleeping for days, keeping company with your brain, which has become a wonderful computer, showing 24 TV channels all about you. That goes horribly wrong after awhile.

Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.

Still, the word "boyfriend" starts to sound pathetic after age 30.

Eventually, life of the party is just like any other job. I've thought of myself that way at times, but it's sort of like holding everybody hostage. It diminishes everyone else. And ultimately, your friends don't require it of you.

For Star Wars, they had me tape down my breasts because there are no breasts in space. I have some. I have two.

I like performing. I like partnering with an audience.