I always clean before the cleaning lady comes. If not, when I come home, I can't find anything. Cleaning ladies are always hiding things you leave out.
You can spend an entire day walking around in New York, whereas in L.A., it always ends at some point because you have to find a way to get home.
It's like, now you're actually complaining because you're making $9 million and guys are making more? If it makes you that upset, quit. Leave the game. Go home then and try finding another job that's going to pay you that.
I have two curiosity cabinets at home filled with finds from jumble sales, markets and my travels. My favourite piece is a voodoo mask from just outside Cape Town.
I can understand why a single parent, working two jobs, would find it easier to stop at McDonald's with the kids rather than cook something from scratch at home.
Growing up I always used to shop in Oxfam. I'd find things for 50p and then take them home, cut them up and make them into something new.
I've been asked a lot why didn't 'Ruined' go to Broadway. It was the most successful play that Manhattan Theatre Club has ever had in that particular space, and yet we couldn't find a home on Broadway.
British actors wear wigs a lot. I find it to be a nice ritual at the end of the day, take the wig off, clean the makeup off, go home, leave work behind me.
I actually feel most at home when I find people who make me feel really dumb, who are brilliant at their particular things. And then I gather these people, put them in a room, and watch incredible things come out of it.
I always wanted my own fragrance because I could never find the right scent for me. At home, I would always mix bottles of my favorite fragrances to create a unique and different scent.
Writers, particularly poets, always feel exiled in some way - people who don't exactly feel at home, so they try to find a home in language.
This sort of encouragement is vital for any writer. And lastly the publication of Touching the Flame, which was on hold for two years and went through a few publishers before finding a stable home.
'Homeward Bound.' I find myself listening to that tune a lot when I'm traveling. Sitting in a railway station, wanting to go home, carrying all your stuff with you.
It's important for me to show my children the richness of life and be a role model. I find that my organizational and management skills are tested more at home than at work!
It's not about finding Mr Right, or that sort of conventional ending, but I do want my characters to have hope - and that's what I do with all my stories.
Science is exploration. The fundamental nature of exploration is that we don't know what's there. We can guess and hope and aim to find out certain things, but we have to expect surprises.
The progressive movement against the war of occupation in Iraq is a reason for hope, as is resistance to free trade agreements in Latin America. Those are moments that we have to celebrate: that people still find the resolve and energy to resist.
I hope that readers will tear through my books because they can't stop themselves - and then, maybe, read them again and find new things there.
That's the way both they and I travel sometimes. Pick road at random, and when it's time to pull over, you pull over and hope you can find a place to crash.
I wanted to show those characters discovering it is possible to find common ground, as they make their way through a plotline that I hope is engrossing enough to keep the reader a willing participant.
All of my books, which are supposedly, I mean they're called YA novels, my hope is that adults would find no reason not to read them if they read them.
