I had spent my whole life feeling homesick. The only difference between the two of us was that I didn't know what or where home was.

He seemed wild and dangerous and carefree--well, he would, would'nt he? What were motorcycles and black leather pants if not the uniform of a wild, dangerous and carefree man?

Every day I wake up afraid that I won't be able to write, that today is the day it has left me.

I am different when my nails are done. I am more dynamic. I gesticulate more, I am better at scaring my staff. I can indicate impatience by drumming on tabletops and I can wrap up a meeting with a few choice clatters.

I loved being in my own head so much, it was getting harder and harder being with other people.

My truth is that what doesn't kill you makes you weaker rather than stronger, although it makes you wiser.

Political correctness is a minefield