A Quote by Charlotte Rae
People of a certain age still remember me as Edna Garrett. They often want to give me a hug because the character was so warm and nurturing. I don't mind at all. I think it's very nice.
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It's nice when people come up to me in the street and give me a hug, I love it.
I don't think there's a day that goes by where I go to the supermarket that a woman doesn't come up and want to give me a hug. It's a crazy thing when you're in the freezer department and some woman comes up behind you and says, 'Can I just hug you, please?' When it first happened, it really blew my mind.
Interesting to me, at least, is that often you meet certain king of people and you feel, in their company, extremely warm and hopeful that they care about you, but you also think that they probably have 10 other people they put their attention to. You think, "Wow, this person is making me feel so special and like they really love me." But the savvy part of me thinks, "They probably do that to everybody."
It's rewarding for me to have people know me as two very different characters. I think when you see people as one character, you expect that they are like that character. So it's nice to be able to throw people for a loop a little bit.
I'm not homophobic or anything like that, but when gay people come out, it's like, 'You didn't have to tell me that, because I'm still going to still give you a hug.'
I'm nice because, when I was growing up, so many people weren't nice to me, and I remember how that felt. And I don't want to make anyone else feel like that. I value nice.
Some people think that I must be ancient because I've been in the business for so long, others still think of me as a waif and assume that I'm too young for certain roles. Starting out at such an early age seems to have worked against me.
I'm not Rihanna. I'm not cool. When people come up to me in the street, they often want a hug, not a photo, and they want that because they like my work.
It is important to me that what Poe has to say gets across to people. I want to give people the feeling that I get from all this. I think that we are succeeding. The feedback is very warm.
I do not remember very many things from the inside out. I do not remember what it felt like to touch things, or how bathwater traveled over my skin. I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, or put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry.
When you're very famous, very young, there's that little thing of, 'Are they being nice to me because they think I'm a nice person? Or is it because they want to tell their friends 'Guess who I was with last night?'
People don't remember me for how high my legs went, even though they went up very high, and how many pirouettes I did. They don't remember me for that. They remember me and any other dancer because something touched them inside. It's an indelible memory on the heart and in the mind.
The first Victoria's Secret model I ever met was Adriana Lima, and she was so nice to me. She was very generous and very nurturing. She made sure people talked to me!
If people recognize me when I'm out in public, I'm very nice to them. I'm very nice to people even when they don't recognize me. I don't even mind if people come up to me while I'm eating dinner, but if they recognize me while I'm having sex, I refuse to sign autographs.
With age, you get to a place where you don't want to knock people out. You just want to give people a hug.
She turned to Skulduggery and held out her arms. “Come here, you.” He tilted his head. “My hugs are for special occasions only.” “Hug me.” “I prefer the old tradition.” “Hug.” “Would a handshake do?” “Hug.” “A pat on the back?” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms round him. “Hug,” she said. He sighed, and his hands settled on her shoulders. The others were warm and their embraces strong – with Skulduggery the hug was cold, and there were areas on his jacket that gave way beneath her fingers, and she could feel the emptiness within. She didn’t mind.
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