When I was younger, I did self-mutilate. I'd be upset, so I'd do it, & it would calm me down. It's a horrible way to feel better. But there are two parts of your brain - one that really wants to destroy the other. & sometimes the idea of self-destruction is very romantic. I got over that.

There are a lot of theories about Shakespeare.

I come from one of these hideous backgrounds where being sincere is like - ugh, you might as well kill yourself.

Now my body is really womanly - a little too much so. It's someting I can fall back on. When I don't know what else to do, I stick my chest out.

I could easily exist on less money, but I like the way I live now.

The whole growing-up process seems to have eluded me

Recently, I've really responded to books that bring the magic of childhood back to us as adults.