Hell hath no fury like a woman who has accidentally napped.

I have been envious of male characteristics, if not the men themselves. I'm jealous of the ease with which they seem to inhabit their professional pursuits: the lack of apologizing, of bending over backward to make sure the people around them are comfortable with what they're trying to do. The fact that they are so often free of the people-pleasing instincts I have considered to be a curse of my female existence.

This could very easily be taken out of context, and I think it's funny now, but I remember looking in the mirror as a kid and, it would be like for an hour at a time, and I'd be like, 'I'm just so beautiful. Everybody is so lucky that they get to look at me.' And of course that changes as you get older, but I may have held on to that little-kid feeling that was me alone in my bathroom.

I learned about sex pretty early when I was, I remember, my friend Amanda DeLauro explained it to me when I was six and then I went home and I told my parents, "Oh my God, Amanda said this ridiculous thing, can you believe how stupid this is? She's insane.

Can we call a moratorium on the use of the term 'ladyparts'? Grazia!

Confidence lets you pull anything off, even Tevas with socks.

Now if you went to someone's house to look for them, you would be a psychopath.