Once we hit forty, women only have about four taste buds left: one for vodka, one for wine, one for cheese, and one for chocolate.

Having a lean and hungry look was frowned upon in my Italian neighborhood where a girl was considered too skinny if she could make her knees touch.

I have an intimate relationship with books. After all, I take them with me into the bathtub-not an invitation I offer lightly.

Envy is what makes you, when an acquaintance is lustily telling you that she's dating a Greek god of a guy, ask, 'Which one, Hades?'

Confessions are like tattoos in that 1) You convince yourself that the immediate pain of going through the process means it won't bother you later on; 2) They are permanent.

I personally translated the word 'vendetta' as Italian for 'What do you mean, "you want to see other women"?

The people I work with are like family. I don't mean this in a nice way.