There is something about Christmas that requires a rug rat. Little kids make Christmas fun. I wonder if could rent one for the holidays.

Write about the emotions you fear the most.

When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time. You'd be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside—walking through their days with no idea who they are, just waiting for a heart attack or cancer or a Mack truck to come along and finish the job. It's the saddest thing I know.

Death is funny, when you think about it. Everybody does it, but nobody knows how, exactly how.

He says a million things without saying a word. I have never heard a more eloquent silence.

I like cheeseburgers too much to be a model.

Because I am still a little girl who believes in Santa and the tooth fairy and you.