My husband is almost as heavy as I am. We were married in adjoining churches.

Nobody wanted the "Roseanne" show. I heard from agents that there was no interest in a show about a fat woman and her family.

Who's elk horn do I have to blow in order to get something to eat around here?

I try to tell people to keep having hope. It's always what you don't know and don't expect that's gonna be so great.

My husband says, 'Roseanne, don't you think we ought to talk about our sexual problems?' Like I'm gonna turn off Wheel of Fortune for that.

I actually regard Facebook as a huge bore, but I cannot refrain from participating in it. I guess I crave the feeling of hope it gives me to think that today will be different from yesterday, that I will find an interesting comment or poke or video, and on the extremely rare occasion when that happens, I am just thrilled.

The end of my addiction to fame happened at the exact moment Roseanne dropped out of the top ten, in the seventh of our nine seasons. It was mysteriously instantaneous!