The worst gift that I ever gave a girl was a suitcase for Christmas. As in 'I can't think of anything to give you but here's a new suitcase.' Afterward I was like 'What were you thinking idiot?'

I travel a lot. If you look at my suitcase everything is extremely well-packed and well-folded people who travel with me are impressed at how organized I am. Some would refer to me as a maniac for this.

The technology is just so far gone. It's just like back in the day you needed a suitcase just to have a cell phone. The battery was so heavy it was like carrying a gallon of soda around with you all day.

You wrestle one night get up the next morning and fly out to the next city. You try to work out you try to get some food into you and lo and behold you have to go work again. You are living out of a suitcase.

The greatest fear that haunts this city is a suitcase bomb nuclear or germ. Many people carry small gas masks. The masses here seem to be resigned to the inevitable believing an attack of major proportions will happen.

Fear anxiety and neurosis: that's just in the suitcase when you're an actor.

Every summer my husband and I pack our suitcases load our kids into the car and drive from tense crowded New York City to my family's cottage in Maine. It's on an island with stretches of sea and sandy beaches rocky coasts and pine trees. We barbecue swim lie around and try to do nothing.