I love to hold people's hands when I visit hospitals, even though they are shocked because they haven't experienced anything like it before, but to me it is a normal thing to do.

I am all about caring. I have always been like that.

I have a woman's instinct and it's always a good one.

Whatever 'in love' means.

I think when I came into marriage -- especially when you've had divorced parents like myself... You'd want to try even harder to make it work and you don't want to fall back into a pattern that you've seen happen in your own family. I desperately want it to work; I desperately love my husband and I wanted to share everything together. And I thought that we were a very good team.

Perhaps we're too embarrassed to change or too frightened of the consequences of showing that we actually care. But why not risk it anyway? Begin today. Carry out a random act of seemingly senseless kindness, with no expectation of reward or punishment, safe in the knowledge that one day, someone somewhere might do the same for you.

Everybody knew about the bulimia in the family. And they all blamed the failure of the marriage on the bulimia and it's taken them time to think differently. I said I was rejected, I didn't think I was good enough for this family, so I took it out on myself. I could have gone to alcohol. I could have been anorexic. I chose to hurt myself instead of hurting all of you.