It’s very tempting to have a nanny and live in a gated community and have a chef – I’d love to have a few dinners cooked for me. But I don’t want that for my children. When they’re older, if people say to them, ‘Did you have a chef?’ I want them to be shocked by the question.
God, my brain really goes to mush when I’m pregnant.
With a bright-red party lipstick, just go with lots of mascara and keep everything else clean.
In films I might look glamorous, but I’ve been in hair and make-up for two hours.
Winning the Oscar was like winning all the prizes in one single night that I never won as a kid.
My children can’t see many of the films that I’ve been in because I’m always either dying or taking my clothes off.
I was the kid who never won the races. I never jumped the highest. I wasn’t on the list of the high-achieving.
Kitchens are so important. They’re the heart of everything.
I am insecure. If you ask me, everybody is.
I kept my head; I mean, I’ve never been one of those people who ended up in the gutter with sick in my hair.
When I was heavy, people would say to me – and it was such a backhanded compliment – they would say, ‘You’ve got such a beautiful face,’ in the way of, like, ‘Oh, isn’t it a shame that from the neck down you’re questionable.’
There are moments to indulge and enjoy, but I always know when it’s time to go home and wash my knickers.
Commitment to one other person in life is glorious.
I’m not the kind of person who’s going to look at the top of a mountain and go, ‘Oh, look at that! That’s lovely. That’s lovely, that top of that mountain.’ I’m the kind of person who’s going to go, ‘Oh, my God! That’s so lovely! Let’s go climb up it!’
