I came out of the womb waving red lipstick.

I literally feel pity for a lot of the stupid idiots that I have to deal with.

I think I ran so hard and so fast, in a lot of ways, from my life and I kind of took a fall. It was like - what do they call it? - post-traumatic stress syndrome.

I would like Obama to be tougher on going up against the Republicans, I don't think he should try to be so moderate.

The fear is that talking back, that engaging at all, is to open the door for god-knows-what.

I just felt like, "Why would you discuss my body as if it's an object?" People will come up and say things like, "Are your breasts real?" I mean, people will come up and discuss my body as if I'm not human.

I'm not really one of those people who goes and writes some big back story and agonizes over characters. I think you kind of can get it. For me personally, it's just kind of more instinctive. But I don't have kind of an acting background. I fell into it accidentally.