It feels like a rash. It suddenly seems like I've got a contagion of diseases, I mean awards. But it's nice, it's a nice feeling. It's so weird, because I'm only 46. A lifetime Achievement award... it feels like 'I'm not over yet'. I hope they're not trying to say it's time to stop. I'm only just getting the gist of it.

Be yourself. No one else can.

I was weird right from the start. It's just that you can't ever expect people to get you. And I do think that really did mess with my head, being well-known young, when you really don't know who you are.

As everyone, you do end up becoming your mother, but also as you're acting, I find out you become every member of your family, bits come out without you really wanting them to come out.

Journalists are always calling my features Edwardian or Victorian, whatever that means. I am small, and people were smaller in those times. I'm pale and sickly-looking. I look fragile-like a doll. But sometimes I just wish I had less of a particular look, one that was more versatile.

Sometimes I go, “What am I doing with my life?” But then I get letters from young women, or people come up to me, and they say, “You’ve made such a difference to my confidence.” And that is a good thing. I should read more fan mail though. I’m crap at responding.

I liked pretending to be other people: I could reinvent myself, reinvent my own reality.