I hated grunge. No one’s more feminist than me, but you don’t have to look as if you don’t give a - you know. You can be smart, bright, and attractive aesthetically to others - and to yourself.

I'm a terrible cook. I am not allowed to go in the kitchen anymore after I almost burned down the apartment in New York.

In Hollywood everything is so documented. If you go for a drink with somebody, it's passed around the world so quickly

I get a bit gloomy when it's gloomy.

The smartest thing I did was to stop going online. I'm the sort of person who will just look for the negative - Michael really can't understand it, but that's just the way I am. And with my bipolar thing, that's poison. So I just stopped. Cold turkey. And it's so liberating.

If my revelation of having bipolar II has encouraged one person to seek help, then it is worth it. There is no need to suffer silently and there is no shame in seeking help.

I was like any new bride, who said, 'I'm going to cook for my man.' In fact, once I started a small kitchen fire in a pan. Smoke was pouring from the pan, and I got really scared. Right next to our stove is a small fire extinguisher. You know, easy access.