I have finally mastered what to do with the second tennis ball. Having small hands, I was becoming terribly self-conscious about keeping it in a can in the car while I served the first one. I noted some women tucked the second ball just inside the elastic leg of their tennis panties. I tried, but found the space already occupied by a leg. Now, I simply drop the second ball down my cleavage, giving me a chest that often stuns my opponent throughout an entire set.

In two decades I've lost a total of 789 pounds. I should be hanging from a charm bracelet.

Giving birth is little more than a set of muscular contractions granting passage of a child. Then the mother is born.

When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me'.

Everyone I talked to was a recording-the bank, the elevator, your office, the school, a wrong number. You used to be able to call a wrong number and get a person.

I take a very practical view of raising children. I put a sign in each of their rooms: 'Checkout Time is 18 years.'

. . . but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute - look at it and really see it - live it - and never give it back.