There are two ways to be happy: improve your reality, or lower your expectations.

Accidents did not just happen. From time to time they were carefully plotted, calculated, and arranged to one’s advantage-all, of course, under the cloak of happenstance.

We believe what we want to, what we need to. The corollary is that we choose not to see what we'd rather pretend doesn't exist.

Maybe honesty is overvalued. What's truly priceless is picking out from a stream of falsehoods the ones you most need to hear.

Good people are good people; religion has nothing to do with it.

To be truly popular, it has to look like something you are, when in reality, it's what you make yourself.

I think once you sign on to be a mother, that's the only shift they offer.