The world reacts very strangely to people they see on TV, and I can begin to understand how anchor monsters are made. If you're not careful, you can become used to being treated as though you're special and begin to expect it. For a reporter, that's the kiss of death.

Selling your apartment in New York is like dating a manic-depressive.. you get used to cycles of elation and despondency. Every time someone would come to see the apartment, there was the thrill of the date. You want to be presentable, so you clean the place up, make sure it smells good, put on some mood lighting and mellow music.

I don't like anything that scares me, and I prefer to face it head on and get over it. Anyone who says they're not scared is a fool, a liar or both. I just don't want that fear in my stomach to be part of my life, so I work to eliminate it.

You can't stop suffering, you can't stop terrible things from happening, but you can bear witness... The least us reporters can do is go there and tell their stories.

We'd be happy to have more fair treatment in the media, but I'm not going to find unicorns on my doorstep tomorrow.

I don't have much experience, but the few times when I would go on a date with a girl - like when I was 12 - there was a lot of sharing, and a lot of talking, and a lot of asking how I am. They thought we were dating, and I was sort of hoping to meet their brothers.

I suppose if you've never bitten your nails, there isn't any way to explain the habit. It's not enjoyable, really, but there is a certain satisfaction - pride in a job well done.