For all of my life it was the size of my rear that caused me the most hand-wringing, but in this nearly-50 zone it is my stomach that is the problem. It seems to have broken free from its moorings and there is no knowing how far it will roam.

I am prone to despair. We are all born with a particular personality. I get afraid and then I don't want to leave the house.

I went grey at 12, my eyesight went at 17. I've been a crock from very early on.

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?

Here's how it is: I feel guilty about every single bite of food that goes into my mouth.

Love is an emotion. It can't be seen or touched, and it is experienced differently by everyone, therefore it is difficult to measure.

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.