Having a baby is a disaster for your career. I don't think there's any sympathy.

In the city, I wake bolt upright in the small hours, convinced that intruders are marauding through our apartment despite Swiss bank-style security arrangements.

I wasn't allowed to be clever when I was young and blonde, but now I am 50 and an old blonde, I am allowed to have gravitas. With wrinkles comes wisdom.

It's so much easier to count our disadvantages than tot up the mitigating circumstances that generally outweigh the despair.

Too often we forget that an ideal partner is someone who enhances an already full existence.

Like cars, every relationship requires a bit of an occasional service, and fine-tuning should be compulsory.

Only those with skin as thick as elephant hide can hope to sail through their teens unscathed by self-doubt and bouts of depression.