He loved me like thick molasses on a summer's day. Pure, sweet, sticky, warm, dark.

And perhaps, I'm a Tuesday night and you're a Wednesday morning the way we'll never even notice how we blend into each other.

But when I think of us, in the quiet when I'm on my own, I think of Beauty and the Beast.I, being the beast, and you being the last beautiful thing in this city.

Decades from now, my grandchild is going to be a poet... And she's going to write about how she's a living testament to how her grandmother made love to hurricane and calmed the storm.

The irony of life: Realizing a lifetime is barely long enough to figure out how it should have been lived.

Their raspy kisses brand our jam tart necks, their treacherous miasma clasps our herbal thighs. Motherlessly we surrender, too many fathers we have, we, your daughters of joy.

It takes a real designer to design for real women.

I'm surrounded by friends and family who are not that impressed by celebrity. They don't have any problem telling me I'm acting like an idiot or I'm not that funny.

In life we shall find many men that are great, and some that are good, but very few men that are both great and good.

I have to say, I have an affinity for Bossanova. It's very warm-sounding to me - lush and simple. I like that.

I know about forgiving people and loving them anyway, even after they hurt you.

There is a lot of silence in me, and I feel that silence is often better than spoken words.

I do dream about Afghanistan. I wake up and think I'm still there.

Hookers don't like to snuggle.