My daughter comes with me everywhere. I don't leave her behind. But it is hard. I mean, I think any working mother will tell you that what kind of falls by the wayside, you know, are the hours of sleep that you wish you had, and all that. I feel incredibly lucky and blessed, but I do sometimes feel like that exorcist lady!

What's considered ideal in Hollywood is completely different than anywhere else in the world. I don't think you can aspire to it, nor can I. Everybody is retouched, stretched, lengthened, slimmed and trimmed. I could look at a picture of myself from the past and think, 'Why don't I look like that now?' It's because I never have!

I quite fancy having a hover car, but I don't fancy everyone having one. Because I feel like I spend quite a lot of time stuck in traffic on the 405 but if everybody had one then they'd be scared and we'd crash, but if it was just me, then I think I would zoom home quite fast. I also quite fancy a phone attached to my hand but then I don't know if I fancy it being stuck to my body.

I do find it extraordinary that men are so prepared to pay for your dinner here. That simply never happens in England. When I first got together with Len, I couldn't understand why it seemed like he was always trying to get into my side of the car. He was holding the door open for me! I don't know what you teach American men in school here, but you have to keep it up, because it's extremely charming.

I'd like to have finally answered the anorexic question so profoundly and definitively, that would be the end of it. The only reason I ever brought it up in the first place is because when I was young, I read a lot of misinformation about eating disorders. But because I picked the wrong magazine to tell my story to, I wished I'd never said anything. It was totally sensationalized and that's been a real drag. I felt terribly violated.

It's frightening enough with a male actor and not a stunt person. If you accidently punch him with the wrong hand, then you've cost them a week's work and they've got a black eye or a lot of money goes on CG to get rid of it. That was nerve wracking, but it was very civilized. Women tend to immediately take responsibility if somebody messes up with both of us saying it's our fault. Men are quite happy for it to be your fault it seems like.

I think you approach a part the same way and just find out in what's making them tick and who they are. In a movie like this you may have a little less time and few dialogue scenes and exposition scenes for your character to really get that across, and so I wanted to be able to convey that she's not somebody who's just punching a clock but she has this weird emotional investment in her job to where she does get quite myopic and that's what makes her relentless.

She wanted something to happen - something, anything: she did not know what.

The voice of the sea speaks to the soul.

Perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one's life.

The voice of the sea is seductive, never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander in abysses of solitude.

The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised, exhausted, fluttering back to earth.

But whatever came, she had resolved never again to belong to another than herself.

She was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.

The artist must possess the courageous soul that dares and defies

Even as a child she had lived her own small life within herself. At a very early period she had apprehended instinctively the dual life - that outward existence which conforms, the inward life which questions.

The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings.

The delicious breath of rain was in the air.

She missed him the days when some pretext served to take him away from her, just as one misses the sun on a cloudy day without having thought much about the sun when it was shining.

The past was nothing to her; offered no lesson which she was willing to heed. The future was a mystery which she never attempted to penetrate. The present alone was significant.

We shall be everything to each other. Nothing else shall be of any consequence.

A certain light was beginning to dawn dimly within her,—the light which, showing the way, forbids it.

There was a dull pang of regret because it was not the kiss of love which had inflamed her, because it was not love which had held this cup of life to her lips.

Goodbye -- Because I love you.

At a very early period she had apprehended the instinctively the dual life - that outward existence which conforms, the inward life which questions.

There was no despondency when she fell asleep that night; nor was there hope when she awoke in the morning.

The city atmosphere certainly has improved her. Some way she doesn't seem like the same woman.

She's got some sort of notion in her head concerning the eternal rights of women.

One who awakens gradually out of a dream, a delicious, grotesque, impossible dream, to feel again the realities pressing into her soul

When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease - of the joy that kills.

Does he write to you? Never a line. Does he send you a message? Never a word. It is because he loves you, poor fool, and is trying to forget you, since you are not free to listen to him or to belong to him.

To be an artist includes much; one must possess many gift -absolute gifts- which have not been acquired by one's effort. And, moreover, to succeed, the artist must possess the courageous soul.

And moreover, to succeed, the artist must possess the courageous soul . . . the brave soul. The soul that dares and defies.

I don't mind walking. I always feel so sorry for women who don't like to walk; they miss so much--so many rare little glimpses of life; and we women learn so little of life on the whole.

Who can tell what metals the gods use in forging the subtle bond which we call sympathy, which we might as well call love.

She had all her life long been accustomed to harbor thoughts and emotions which never voiced themselves.

There are some people who leave impressions not so lasting as the imprint of an oar upon the water.

But the beginning of things, of a world especially, is necessarily vague, tangled, chaotic, and exceedingly disturbing. How few of us ever emerge from such beginning! How many souls perish in its tumult!

I would give up the unessential; I would give my money, I would give my life for my children; but I wouldn't give myself.

Well, for instance, when I left her today, she put her arms around me and felt my shoulder blades, to see if my wings were strong, she said.

She was flushed and felt intoxicated with the sound of her own voice and the unaccustomed taste of candor. It muddled her like wine, or like a first breath of freedom.

She reminded him of some beautiful, sleek animal waking up in the sun.

He could see plainly that she was not herself. That is, he could not see that she was becoming herself [...].

The stillest hour of the night had come, the hour before dawn, when the world seems to hold its breath. The moon hung low, and had turned from silver to copper in the sleeping sky.

But she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that would belong to her absolutely.

She was just having a good cry all to herself.

She felt that her speech was voicing the incoherency her thoughts, and stopped abruptly.

I hope you won't completely forget me.

Do you suppose a woman knows why she loves? Does she select?

The voice of the sea is seductive, never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation.