Some say love, it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed.
[On Denmark:] ... that little country of cottage cheese and courage.
For days on end, I would hardly speak, and when I did only the vilest sort of gibberish would spout forth. I became morose and fat. Unapproachable, except when eating - and then only by waiters.
I feel like a million tonight - but one at a time.
I never know how much of what I say is true.
My idea of superwoman is someone who scrubs her own floors.