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One day, I made a remark that I might work with people with mental illness, and somebody in the press heard it, and it was in the paper. And the more I thought about it and found out about it, the more I thought it was just a terrible situation with no attention. And I've been working on it ever since.

I said I would never go to a psychiatrist, and I spent much of my life in psychoanalysis.

I think when I went to psychoanalysis, I actually believed that people said what they meant. This was my whole problem.

I can remember, when I was in college, irritating deeply somebody I was going out with, because he would ask me what I was thinking and I would say I was thinking nothing. And it was true.

It used to be that whenever I introduced myself to people and told them I was a psychologist, they would shrink away from me. Because, quite rightly, the impression the American public has of psychologists is, 'You want to know what's wrong with me.'

My psychiatrist told me I was crazy and I said I want a second opinion. He said okay, you're ugly too.

I told my psychiatrist that everyone hates me. He said I was being ridiculous - everyone hasn't met me yet.

I've had a Ph.D. in saying dumb things over the years.

Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes.

This is a do-it-yourself test for paranoia: you know you've got it when you can't think of anything that's your fault.