I used to wash my hands every ten minutes. I couldn't step out of the house unless I had gloves on. I wouldn't smoke a cigarette unless I opened the pack myself, and I would never use another cigarette out of that pack if someone else had touched it.

I remember most clearly when a teenage Christopher spat in my face. He said, "I hate you". It's pretty hard to overlook that. I couldn't.

Learn to breathe, learn to speak, but first... learn to feel.

Not that anyone cares, but there's a right and wrong way to clean a house.

There's nothing wrong with my tits, but I don't go around throwing them in people's faces!

My tears speak for me.

If you start watching the oldies, you're in trouble. I feel ancient if "Grand Hotel" or "The Bride Wore Red" comes on. I have a sneaking regard for "Mildred Pierce", but the others do nothing for me.