"It was on my dad`s TV when I lived with him. When I moved out I said, `Sorry, Dad, but you have to part with my Oscar.`"
I've purged myself of bitterness and anger and remained open to love.
I've overcome neglect and deprivation, abandonment and abuse.
The more love I craved, the more distant and abusive he grew. The role I longed to play was never written into Ryan's script: daughter.
As Peter Bogdanovich would say of Paper Moon: Ryan's wonderful in it, and he sat there and watched the kid steal the picture.
Griffin, my brother, 11 months younger, was sometimes the victim of my father's fury - once Ryan famously knocked out his teeth.
I do take responsibility for it. I admit to having a problem. I have been to numerous treatment centers.
I felt privileged to be a facet of such a jewel in the crown of American cinema.
Certain struggles never end.
I have a temper, but I wouldn't call me abusive.
I never dreamed that shooting a film would be so hard. There was less regulation then of child actors' hours. Even the concept of acting confused me.
I remained Ryan's companion on the Hollywood party circuit, growing inured to sex and drugs before I was in my teens.
I think all of us feel like we're a bit on show, all the time.
I was punished for blowing the whistle on my father's lifestyle.
I've overcome physical and mental brutality - and fought back.
I've stood my ground in life, alone, even against overwhelming forces with the might and money to crush me.
Ryan finally came to my rescue. He'd thought working together in Paper Moon would help us bond.
Ryan is my bridge to the past, to memories that lose some of their sting when he recounts them.
Paper Moon didn't bring me love.
My children forgave me at a time when I could barely forgive myself.
I've triumphed over addiction.