It is my theory you can't get rid of fat. All you can do is move it around, like furniture.

What we're really talking about is a wonderful day set aside on the fourth Thursday of November when no one diets. I mean, why else would they call it Thanksgiving?

When you're an orthodox worrier, some days are worse than others.

I lost everything in the post-natal depression.

You hear a lot of dialogue on the death of the American family. Families aren't dying. They're merging into big conglomerates.

Once you get a spice in your home, you have it forever. Women never throw out spices. The Egyptians were buried with their spices. I know which one I'm taking with me when I go.

The family. We are a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms. . . and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.