Allow me to put the record straight. I am forty-six and have been for some years past.
fame is merely the fact of being misunderstood by millions of people.
Solitude is un-American.
Anger is really disappointed hope.
When I met my husband, I refused to invite him home for Passover because I was embarrassed my mother might serve all the catered dishes in the wrong order.
You reach a point in life where you realize that you might as well do what you need to do, because your being loved or not being loved is really a function of the people you encounter and not of yourself. That is an immensely liberating insight.