It was only when the salt water of my tears ran into my cuts and made them sting that I discovered I was crying.

I rang my mother to thank her for giving birth to me and she said, "What choice had I? You were in there, how else were you going to get out?

Not only was he not mad, but he was a musician, and my favorite men had always been musicians or writers or anything that involved the creative process and behaving like tortured artists. ... I found financial insecurity a great aphrodisiac.

I used to write in bed, starting when I woke up. I believe that creative work comes from our subconscious mind, so I try to keep the gap between sleep and writing as minimal as possible.

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.

I knew it, I just knew it! The person who had the job of writing my life's dialogue used to work on a very low budget soap opera.

I've been so showered in life, beyond my wildest dreams, such as having a loving partner I never thought I'd have.