Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…what ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s.

Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.

When you're thinking, "Why do I have to eat Aunt Sue's casserole with potato chips crumbled on top again?" change that thought to "A couple of bites won't kill me."

Worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum.

Like many women my age, I am 28 years old.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Reading is a discount ticket to everywhere.