I am 46, and have been for some time past.

In real life, it is the hare who wins. Every time. Look around you. And in any case it is my contention that Aesop was writing for the tortoise market. Hares have no time to read. They are too busy winning the game.

What is interesting about self-analysis is that it leads nowhere - it is an art form in itself.

Always let them think of you as singing and dancing.

The essence of romantic love is that wonderful beginning, after which sadness and impossibility may become the rule.

Real love is a pilgrimage. It happens when there is no strategy, but it is very rare because most people are strategists.

I was brought up among the sort of self-important women who had a husband as one has an alibi.