Anorexia taught me to love life and to realise that starving yourself to death is a bloody waste of time. It's awful and it hurts so many people around you. It's a terribly selfish thing to do.

Living as an actor is rather like living life on the trapezes in a circus. Every time you jump on, you have to pray that, when the time comes for you to jump off, there is another trapeze swinging your way.

Pat Phoenix kept that amazing sassy look. I always wonder, was that because she was thrilled with that look, and thought it looked marvellous, or was it because she was too scared to change it? It's a double thing. Security and insecurity.

A 'naughty pickle' is how I'd best describe myself. I think fun and laughter is the whole point of life.

I've made great friends through acting. When I'm with Victoria Wood and Julie Walters, we have grand fun. We can make each other howl with laughter because we know each other so well.

I landed the role of Bravo 5, the only female fighter pilot in 'Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace.' I did my bit and fired my guns, but I haven't a notion of which side I was on or who I was firing the guns at.

Anorexia is an awful thing, but you get yourself into it, and only you can get yourself out of it.

There are actresses who've had expensive work done and look great, so I'm not holier-than-thou about it. But it wouldn't be for me, perhaps because I've already been in hospital and wouldn't want to volunteer myself for it again.

Some people love Sundays I don't, particularly. I used to rather dread them when I was younger. I was brought up on Sunday roasts, which I've always loathed. If I didn't finish my meat, I had to sit with it for most of the afternoon. No wonder I'm a vegetarian now.

I know if I had the chance of going aboard the Titanic in those days, I would have gone - I know I would have. I adore going on the Queen Mary - I think it's the only way to travel from New York.

I have a horror of boring someone or, worse still, of someone boring me. I said to my mother when I was seven, 'But, Mums, if it was only my husband and me in the house together, what would we talk about?' I've never wanted to answer my own question, and doubt I'll bother now.

I'm a bit of a fraud, really, as I didn't study acting at a drama school.

If I look back, my mother was always out. I can remember the perfume and her scarlet chiffon dress and crystal beads, going to a party. She used to play her violin at restaurants later on in life and at old people's homes. She loved the races, which she used to take me to as a child: our carpets were bought with her winnings. Loved her chickens.

I watch people from the top of buses who don't know they're being watched. It's quite fascinating.

Anyone who goes on the stage is a show-off, aren't they? Acting's weird.

I've had to spend an awful lot of my life trying to pretend I'm not posh. Although once I open my mouth, I rather let things out the bag.