It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it. And Catherine's a great kisser.

We kiss for a long time, a good long time. I don’t even notice that it’s cold and I forget to be afraid because that’s just how good a kisser he is. His lips move above my lips. My lips ache for the touch of him, the softness of his skin. We keep kissing. My hands wrap themselves in his hair. His hand presses me close into him, as close as I can be against him, and he is solid, strong, amazing. My hands leave his hair and journey down to the sides of his face, still tingling.
“We should keep going,” he says, voice gruff and husky again. I love when his voice sounds like that, deeper than normal. His lips puff out a little more, too. “You’re blushing.”
I pull my lips in against each other like I’m still trying to taste him. I move my snowshoes off of his snowshoes. It’s tricky.
“You’re a good kisser,” I say.
“So are you.

I love clothes, and yes, we go out, but it's not like I'm walking around all day in a negligee with fluffy mules.

I am strong-willed, which can be annoying sometimes. And from that I think people assume I have confidence and Hollywood glamour and all that stuff, when actually, in my personal life, sometimes I'm just a goofball.

I get a bit gloomy when it's gloomy.

I think that the more success you have as an actor, I think, the greatest advantage of being successful as an actor or being in this business is that you have the chance to pick and choose, or you have people coming to you with a much more different variety of roles.