I Hate Caviar. Ugh! The Freebase Of

I Rarely Cry. I Save My Feelings Up Inside Me Like I Have Something More Specific In Mind For Them. I Am Waiting For The Exact Perfect Situationand Then Boom! I'll Explode In A Light Show Of Feeling And Emotion - A Pinata Stuffed With Tender Nuances And Pent-up Passions

You Can't Find Any True Closeness In Hollywood, Because Everybody Does The Fake Closeness So Well.

I Think That Now Most People Know Someone In Their Family That Is Coping With Something, But There Is Still A Tremendous Amount Of Shame - That One Is Still Regarded As A Defective Unit ... If Only They Would Pull Up Their Bootstraps - They Are Only Indulging Their Emotions, Everybody's Moody, Blah, Blah, Blah.

I Like Having Written Better Than I Like Having Acted.

I Used To Refer To My Drug Use As Putting The Monster In The Box. I Wanted To Be Less, So I Took More - Simple As That. Anyway, I Eventually Decided That The Reason Dr. Stone Had Told Me I Was Hypomanic Was That He Wanted To Put Me On Medication Instead Of Actually Treating Me. So I Did The Only Rational Thing I Could Do In The Face Of Such As Insult - I Stopped Talking To Stone, Flew Back To New York, And Married Paul Simon A Week Later.