That icy glass reduces your beauty - dims your fire - let me be your mirror...

Here's what I've learned - people will hurt you, but you don't have to respond: Not every mean comment or cruel act deserves to be noticed.

When we perfect 3-D copiers and they reproduce tissue, we'll have a million Marilyns walking around with no souls.

Summer softens lines that winter cruelly shows.

Freshly cut Christmas trees smelling of stars and snow and pine resin - inhale deeply and fill your soul with wintry night.

I love it when the dark bottle of night spills out, and the Moon writes in chalk about us.

I'm not afraid of the opinions of others - but of being needed and coming up short.