I would say what scares me is that I'm going to ultimately find out at the end of my life that I'm really not lovable, that I'm not worthy of being loved. That there's something fundamentally wrong with me.

There’s nothing wrong with having a desire to want nice things. It’s when we place that as a measure of the value of ourselves that it goes askew.

Some of my lowest points were the most exciting opportunities to push through to be a better person.

Certainly I'm passionate and driven and quite relentless when I want something.

I don't know anybody who is raising their hand saying, "Oh God, I love being vulnerable and needy."

It's about time that people forget that image of strip clubs as seedy places...Rather, today's clubs are capital-intensive female-empowerment zones.

I'm intensely private, and I've openly shown annoyance at the paparazzi.