Can't Is For Pussies.

My Husband Is Old-fashioned And Kind, He Does The Greatest Sinatra Impression, And I'd Never Have Written Anything If He Hadn't Read All Those Bedtime Stories And Unloaded The Dishwasher While I Slaved Over Chapters.

A Mother Of A One-year-old Boy Is A Movie Star In A World Without Critics.

I Don't Believe For A Minute That Women Really Want To Be Understood By Men.

My Child Was One Of Nature's Tories Pitted Against A Mother Who Was One Of Nurture's Lefties: It Was No Contest.

Death Itself Is Too Big To Take In, She Already Sees That; The Loss Comes At You Instead In An Infinite Number Of Small Installments That Can Never Be Paid Off.