I want to have a scene with Maggie Smith.
Maggie is my sister-in-law, married to my brother David. She is a defense attorney who devotes 25 percent of her practice to pro bono wrongful-incarceration cases.
Maggie went out of doors to wash the windows and father came out into the kitchen and said he did not know whether he would go down to the post office or not. And then I sprinkled some handkerchiefs to iron.
I think he came to the front door and rang the bell, and Maggie let him in, and he said he had forgotten his key; so I think she must have been down stairs.
I, Maggie, personally cannot tell you that you're going to save the planet. But what I do know is that we can draw a line to an issue that can conserve what we already have and what's left in a way that we can actually breathe the air, drink the water, actually grow things in soil - that matters in a real, practical way.
My manager's biggest dream is for me to be on Letterman. She says, 'Oh, Maggie, will you promise me you'll be on 'Letterman?' What can I say? I just tell her I can't promise, but I'll try my best.
How is Maggie Rowe compensating for her decision to not have a child? Is what she is doing instead enough to justify that decision? What is she doing instead, and why can't she be better at it? What's keeping her from getting a better overall existence score in comparison to an arbitrary sampling of other human beings?
I have slavishly dedicated myself to the construction of an image that nobody but me sees. Nobody but me is pondering the question: How does Maggie Rowe stack up against others as an overall human being?
Maggie Gyllenhaal, Chelsea Handler, Tilda Swinton, and Sofia Coppola are other clients. They're all risk takers but never look like they're in costume.
Being in the same scenes as Maggie Smith and Shirley MacLaine is something I will never forget.
