Once when we were fifteen, River (Phoenix) and I went out for this fancy dinner in Manhattan and I ordered soft-shell crabs. He left the restaurant and walked around on Park Avenue, crying. I went out and said, "I love you so much. Why?" He had such a pain that I was eating an animal, that he hadn't impressed on me what was right. I loved him for that. For his dramatic desire that we share every belief, that I be with him all the way

The '80s to me, more than anything else, represents a time of real criminal activity in the office of the president: an incredibly disparate economy in terms of the class distinctions and whatnot, and a tremendous shallowness - a lot of sort of bank robbery by executives.

That's the thing about interviews, at some point you're going to change your mind. But it's there forever and you can't escape it.

Woke up this morning to the incredible news that I was nominated for an Emmy, and a shower full of dog poop. Apparently my dog is so excited, she has explosive diarrhea. I truly could not be more thankful to the Emmy voters for including me in this brilliant company of extraordinary women. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go clean up an enormous amount of dog poop out of my shower. Yay!

I hate those people who say 'I don't own a television' - I own one and I watch it whenever I can.

My mom just didn't put a very high premium on me being like really famous or really wealthy or anything.

I live like a crazy old pack rat.