I've purged myself of bitterness and anger and remained open to love.
Things with my dad were pretty good until I won an Academy Award. He was really loving to me until I got more attention than he did. Then he hated me.
Griffin, my brother, 11 months younger, was sometimes the victim of my father's fury - once Ryan famously knocked out his teeth.
I've overcome neglect and deprivation, abandonment and abuse.
Ryan is my bridge to the past, to memories that lose some of their sting when he recounts them.
I remained Ryan's companion on the Hollywood party circuit, growing inured to sex and drugs before I was in my teens.
Certain struggles never end.
I've stood my ground in life, alone, even against overwhelming forces with the might and money to crush me.
Paper Moon didn't bring me love.
I have a temper, but I wouldn't call me abusive.
I've overcome physical and mental brutality - and fought back.
As Peter Bogdanovich would say of Paper Moon: Ryan's wonderful in it, and he sat there and watched the kid steal the picture.
I was punished for blowing the whistle on my father's lifestyle.
I never dreamed that shooting a film would be so hard. There was less regulation then of child actors' hours. Even the concept of acting confused me.
The more love I craved, the more distant and abusive he grew. The role I longed to play was never written into Ryan's script: daughter.
Ryan finally came to my rescue. He'd thought working together in Paper Moon would help us bond.
Things get so sloppy when you're under the influence.
I've triumphed over addiction.
I felt privileged to be a facet of such a jewel in the crown of American cinema.
My children forgave me at a time when I could barely forgive myself.
I think all of us feel like we're a bit on show, all the time.
When someone was hitting me, or like sexually molesting me, it just seemed normal to continue to do that to myself.