Amazing how the heart clutches at anything familiar, whimpering Mine!Mine!

I'm from the generation that had the boys' door and the girls' door when you went to school, and you got in big trouble if you went in the wrong one.

His father was self-made, but his mother was constructed by others, and such edifices are notoriously fragile.

I would not change [my past work] anymore than I would airbrush a photo of myself.

No mother is ever, completely, a child's idea of what a mother should be, and I suppose it works the other way around as well. But despite everything, we didn't do too badly by one another, we did as well as most.

You can't keep a cool head when you're drowning in love. You just trash around a lot and scream, and wear yourself out.

I hate to break this to you: One of these days I'm going to die. I expect that when I croak I'll no longer be using Twitter, unless I can do it from the grave.