Quotes from Carrie Fisher

Anyway, George comes up to me the first day of filming and he takes one look at the dress and says, "You can't wear a bra under that dress." So, I say, "Okay, I'll bite. Why?" And he says, "Because . . . there's no underwear in space." I promise you this is true, and he says it with such conviction too! Like he had been to space and looked around and he didn't see any bras or panties or briefs anywhere.

One not only has to read between the lines, one has to fill him in altogether. Because he's not there. To make him important in one's life requires an overactive imagination. Unfortunately, mine never knows when to quit.

Someone's summered in my stomach, Someone's fallen through my legs, To make an infant omelet, Simply scramble sperm and eggs.

I decided to ride the lightning instead of extinguishing the light of life that had once shown out of my eyes.

Many would argue there are certain otherwise-private stories I might've been wiser to keep closer to the vest. That vest that knows no proximity.

The crew was mostly men. That's how it was and that's pretty much how it still is. It's a man's world and show business is a man's meal, with women generously sprinkled through it like overqualified spice.) The

I had so much lip gloss on you might have slid off and broken your own lips if you tried to kiss me.

Mania is, in effect, liquid confidence..when the tide comes in, it's all good. But when the tide goes out, the mood that cannot and should not be named comes over you and into you. Because to name it would be an act of summoning.

Who do you want them to think you are? How do you think people see you? Or don't you let them near enough to see. You make up their minds for them. Do you think that you succeed in convincing people that you are what you seem to be?

It's sort of like an invitation to the White House—only you meet a better class of people in the mental hospital.

When we started filming, I tried to keep myself well under the radar so that the powers that be wouldn't notice that I hadn't lost the weight they'd asked me to. I only weighed 110 pounds to begin with, but I carried about half of them in my face. I think they may have put those buns on me so they might function as bookends, keeping my face right where it was, between my ears and no bigger.

Why did all these men find it so easy to be in love with me then and so complex to be in love with me now?

So Pat showed me a variety of exotic looks—from Russian princesses to Swedish maids. I looked at the images, slightly alarmed. There was no Lady Gaga to guide me.

There are a couple of reasons why I take comfort in being able to put all this in my own vernacular and present it to you. For one thing, because then I'm not completely alone with it. And for another, it gives me a sense of being in control of the craziness. Now this is a delusion, but it's MY delusion and I'm sticking with it. It's sort of like: I have problems but problems don't have me.

instant gratification takes too long." Anyway

My only intent was to feel better—which is to say, not to feel at all.

I was something women and men could agree on. They didn't like me in the same way, but they liked me with the same intensity, and were all fine with the other sex liking me, too. Isn't that weird? Think about it. And then stop and ponder something actually important.

I don't just want you to like me, I want to be one of the most joy-inducing human beings that you've ever encountered.

I was playing for keeps and he was playing for fun.

If anyone reads this when I have passed to the big bad beyond I shall be posthumorously embarrassed. I shall spend my entire afterlife blushing. I'm

Jabba the Hutt—the fashionista. Jabba the Hutt—the Coco Chanel of intergalactic style. Trendsetter, fashion maven, leader of women's looks in his world, on his planet and the next.

Everyone else got to wear their regular outfits from the first movie. I had to wear my outfit that Jabba picked out for me. Jabba the Hutt—the fashionista. Jabba the Hutt—the Coco Chanel of intergalactic style. Trendsetter, fashion maven, leader of women's looks in his world, on his planet and the next. In wax, I would forever be outfitted by outlaw Jabba. In wax and out, I would forever be stone-faced.

the last thing I thought I wanted to do was go into show business, a fickle occupation that doled out a sense of uneasiness and humiliation like tepid snacks at movie screenings.

In the last few years I've become an accepted eccentric at best, and a fuckup at worst. I feel like I'll let people down if I take away the behavior they've grown accustomed to disapproving of. They try to discipline me, I refuse to be disciplined. They object, I'm objectionable. We all know exactly what to do.