I'm one of those actors who's just standing there, waiting and ready for something to come my way. I don't really try to think about, "Oh, I feel the next thing I should do should be a feature. Now, I think I should do a play." I just hope someone wants to cast me in something.

To not have any hope is where things start to get really bleak. Things are possible. The impossible can be possible.

Your mind knows your pretending, but, in terms of the adrenaline and the fact that you are actually crying, and that you are that upset, and you are screaming, and you are simulating terror, your body does not know that it is not real. Your body feels really wrecked afterwards.

I'm interested in telling the character's story, not my beliefs, political or otherwise.

I could feel my body temperature - I knew I was bright red. It was so humiliating, I was so upset, and it was nothing I had planned to do. It was just one of those beautiful moments, the alchemy of acting that is so mysterious, where you sort of go, "How did that come out of me?"

I like that feeling in your brain when you've got seven things that you're holding in one moment-you heard that person cough, you heard that person laugh, you're also saying your line, you're also listening to the person who's talking to you.

I don't have children, but my work life is as important to me as anything could be. I've dedicated a lot of time and energy and years to it. Some might say some of my childbearing years to it. In and of itself, my work is like a child to me. That is my reality.