I know what it's like to have someone coming home who looks at you not in the way they used to in the old days, and I've seen my own face contorted with sadness and rage in the mirror.

I remember being married to John Barry and trying to be the best wife in the world.

When I was at school I used to scream in trains, in those concertina things between the carriages. I used to try to be so good that sometimes I couldn't bear it any more.

My mother was right: When you've got nothing left, all you can do is get into silk underwear and start reading Proust.

One of the things I've discovered, thanks to the Japanese, is that you should enjoy yourself. In the old days, I used to think: 'Oh, never be satisfied, never admit to being happy.' But there's no curse in being happy.

I didn't really think of myself as being a muse.

Any film I see at two o'clock in afternoon with my mother seems to cast a strange spell that means we both come out sobbing.