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.
As You Like It' was the first Shakespeare production I ever did.
Shakespeare showed me that once I understand the rules, I can break them.
Shakespeare's taught me that there are more words in the English language than I have got in my head.
And children? 'I don't have any regrets about not having had children. What's the point? It's just something else to beat yourself up over.
I'm constantly intimidated by Shakespeare's work. Trying to decipher what he's saying and holding on to that thought - not just as an actor, but as a human being - is a rigour.
My mother was adorable, a great giggler. My father was very strong and could be quite frightening.
Middle School is about as bad as it gets, and then it gets better.
All this was mine; but I was a long time learning that wisdom and experience are things apart; that to taste life is not to be confused with understanding what life is really all about. The shared experiences, the wisdom so freely proffered by others, in words and in example, rarely swayed me for long. Came another day and the import was gone, and only the echo of the laughter remained. Experience was a revolving sun in the warmth of which I was content to bask.
What do you mean you have my children at the police station? Why are my kids at the police station?
Cut out all these exclamation points. An exclamation point is like laughing at your own joke.