A Quote by Anjelica Huston

I spent quite a lot of time in front of the bathroom mirror. Nearby, there was a stack of books. My favorites were 'The Death of Manolete' and the cartoons of Charles Addams. I would pretend to be Morticia Addams. I was drawn to her. I used to pull my eyes back and see how I'd look with slanted eyelids.
I grew up on Charles Addams' cartoons, particularly 'The Addams Family,' and Uncle Fester was always one of my favorites.
Simultaneously, my two biggest heroes are Susan Sontag and Morticia Addams from 'The Addams Family.'
Do you know who I would love to play? Morticia Addams - then I could use all that darkness to be funny.
Fester never talked in the 'Addams Family' cartoons. So I raised my voice an octave and I gave him a beetling look.
Growing up, I loved Morticia Addams and Lily Munster on one hand, and Jeannie from 'I Dream of Jeannie' on the other. Two completely different ends of the spectrum, kind of like me.
I loved Charles Addams more than anything. Still love him.
She knew I could tell with one glance, one look, one simple instant. It was her eyes. Despite the thick makeup, they were still dark-rimmed., haunted, and sad. Most of all though, they were familiar. The fact that we were in front of hundreds of strangers changed nothing at all. I'd spent a summer with those same eyes-scared, lost, confused-staring back at me. I would have known them anywhere.
I saw Madeleine Stowe from Revenge recently, and she totally blew me away. And growing up I loved Morticia Addams and Lily Munster on one hand, and Jeannie from I Dream of Jeannie on the other. Two completely different ends of the spectrum, kind of like me.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange her long red hair before my bedroom mirror. she pulls her hair up and piles it on top of her head- she lets her eyes look at my eyes- then she drops her hair and lets it fall down in front of her face. we go to bed and I hold her speechlessly from the back my arm around her neck I touch her wrists and hands feel up to her elbows no further.
I shut the bathroom door and caught sight of my face in the mirror. I had no idea how quickly it was to change, to fade. If I had, I would have stared at my reflection, memorizing it. It was the last time I would look into a real mirror for more than a decade.
No, books. She would have maybe twenty going at a time, lying all over our house--on the kitchen table, by her bed, the bathroom, our car, her bags, a little stack at the edge of each stair. And she'd use anything she could find for a bookmark. My missing sock, an apple core, her reading glasses, another book, a fork.
I come from a background where there would be one mirror above the basin that was used by everyone in the house. If you spent more than five minutes in front of the mirror, you would probably get a whack. My mother was so strict that if anyone complimented me for being pretty, she would not encourage that discussion.
When I look in the mirror, I see my late mother: I have her nose, her dark eyes - I call them chocolate eyes - I have her colouring, and my hair is greying the same way, although I use colour and she didn't.
This thought was interrupted, suddenly, by a crash from the front entrance. We all looked over just in time to see Adam bending back from the glass, rubbing his arm. "Pull open," Maggie called out. As Leah rolled her eyes, she said, "He never remembers. It's so weird.
I've a full-length triple-panel mirror in which I can see every possible angle, and I spend quite a lot of time in front of it.
We were all such odd characters, even though we were a really functional family, in a way, as eccentric and crazy as we were. And it was such a wonderful feeling amongst us of being a family almost. We were 'The Addams Family!'
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