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.

I lost my dad way too early and it was agonisingly awful. I missed him so much and I hated knowing that I could never again pick up the phone to tell him about my day.

My Dad hated his job. He sold overcoats but he wanted to make movies. He had a failed career working with the Ritz Brothers - they were like the Marx Brothers only a tier below. I always had a picture in my mind of him in a straw hat.

I hated the idea of a high school sweetheart. Growing up oh my God it just made me sick. I wanted to have a range of cool boyfriends. I wanted to travel around and date these interesting men. Then it just happened. You fall in love.

I always hated high-school shows and high-school movies because they were always about the cool kids. It was always about dating and sex and all the popular kids and the good-looking kids. And the nerds were super-nerdy cartoons with tape on their glasses. I never saw 'my people' portrayed accurately.

I was never considered cool throughout my teens: a very important time to be accepted by someone especially your peers. Yes I had all the screaming women but the guys hated my guts.

I've always looked the same. Since I was a child I hated having to deal with my hair. I hated having to change my clothes. As a kid I had a sailor shirt and the same old corduroy pants and that's what I wanted to wear everyday.

As a kid I had buck teeth and braces and acne. I hated what I saw. I'm still not comfortable but that's why I change and adapt the way I look.

I have always had this mentality because I hated to break anything on the car.

I hate birthdays. I thought that I only hated my own birthday and then I realized that I hate my children's birthdays too.

There's a punk-rock attitude clearly to 'Hated.' There's even a punk-rock attitude to 'The Hangover ' I think. We start the movie with a Glenn Danzig song.

My culture-deprived aspirational mother dragged me once a month from our northern suburb - where the word art never came up - to the Art Institute of Chicago. I hated it.

People used what they called a telephone because they hated being close together and they were scared of being alone.