Authorities say brain cells may shrink, but they don't necessarily die. Frankly, I am cheered by the fact that something is shrinking. I'd be even more thrilled if what was shrinking affected my dress size, but you can't have everything.

Remember, you can lead a fifty-seven-year-old body to motherhood, but you can't make it stay awake.

I see children as kites. You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground. You run with them until you're both breathless. They crash . . . you add a longer tail . . . you patch and comfort, adjust and teach. You watch them lifted by the wind and assure them that someday they'll fly.

I come from a family where gravy is considered a beverage.

One certainty when you travel is the moment you arrive in a foreign country, the American dollar will fall like a stone.

Know the difference between success and fame. Success is Mother Teresa. Fame is Madonna.

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.