The words that I gave to the writer for Vanity Fair were misused and misconstrued, and I'm appalled with the way it was done.

I was good at being charming, one of my very few vanities.

I scarce ever heard or saw the introductory words, "Without vanity I may say," etc., but some vain thing immediately followed.

The intellectual is constantly betrayed by his vanity. Godlike he blandly assumes that he can express everything in words; whereas the things one loves, lives, and dies for are not, in the last analysis completely expressible in words.

Lindsay's fine. She's a 19-year-old girl. The writer twisted some of her words. [Lindsay] had said 'I wasn't eating right,' and this interviewer ... everyone has to be labeled, so they tried to label her. Well, it's not about labels. It's about being honest. Lindsay is honest and open ... If Lindsay had a problem, she wouldn't be coming out with four movies in a year.

When I got there, I was nervous,