I don't know what everybody else was fantasizing about but what I was fantasizing about was a nine-to-five existence, a house on a tree-lined block with a white picket fence, pink roses in the backyard. [...] After a while you learn that privacy is something you can sell, but you can't buy it back.

I hate the idea of success robbing you of your private life.

The details surrounding both my marriage and subsequent filing for divorce are private, and I had hoped to keep them that way for the sake of my family.

The press is just not your friend when it comes to a marriage. That's why we didn't sell the pictures of our wedding, and we got offered millions of dollars for them, millions.

I feel like I'm being watched. Always. Like, I want to tan topless somewhere, and I know I probably could never do that. Even if I'm upstairs in my bedroom, and the curtains are pulled, I feel like a paparazzo's outside on a boat somewhere, or somebody's peeping.

I don't want everybody to see exactly where I live, what my sofa or my fireplace looks like.