At the end of the day I am a writer, and if I don't take care of this, no one else will.

I spent a week living as a man. Which was actually, I'm sorry to say, embarrassingly easy for me to do.

From the most sacred ancient text of Yoga: Oh Krishna, the mind is restless, turbulent, strong, and unyielding. I consider it as difficult to subdue as the wind.

What Richard is talking about is instead admitting to the existence of negative thoughts, understanding where they came from and why they arrived, and then - with great forgiveness and fortitude - dismissing them.

The world is like a dropped pie most of the time. Don't kill yourself trying to put it back together. Just grab a fork and eat some of it off the floor. Then carry on.

I never wanted to be the person that waited for a stranger to come to town - I wanted to be the stranger!

Given that life is so short, do I really want to spend one-ninetieth of my remaining days on earth reading Edward Gibbon?