Lots of people feel more alive when theyre riding a roller-coaster relationship. But while this might be fun for a while, it cant possibly last.

Loving myself exactly where I am is the only way to get where I'm going

Caring - about people, about things, about life - is an act of maturity.

Women with low self-esteem love bad boys. Women who have work to do love bad boys. Women who love themselves love good men.

All of us, consciously or unconsciously, set out to have the best possible love life. Valentine's Day simply shines a light on the degree to which that didn't - or hasn't yet - materialized.

People act on the outside the way they feel on the inside.

Women blame men for their own singlehood.

Here's the thing, you're not really ready for love until you have enough self-respect that if you met your exact self but in a guy you would totally, completely, absolutely want to be with him.

I think of 'crazy' as what happens when we love the other person more than we love ourselves.

Ask anyone who has been in a love relationship for a while: nothing is perfect.

Everything works out in the end. if it hasn't worked out yet, then it's not the end.

Our eyes tell us what we want to believe, but our heart tells us only the simple truth

The power of the harasser, the abuser, the rapist depends above all on the silence of women.

To my father, who told me the stories that matter. To my mother, who taught me to remember them.

I don't think nationalism is alone holding the field it's in contention with a lot of different things.

Good things happen when you narrow your focus.

At your next breath each of you will probably inhale half a dozen or so of the molecules of Caesar’s last breath.

Don [ Handfield] was actually one of the first guys I met in town back in '94. He was an actor and a writer and all this stuff.

If the sun of God's countenance shine upon me, I may well be content to be wet with the rain of affliction.

If you're not connected emotionally to a story, then you're dead. You're really just opening the door for people to lose interest and their minds to wander, for them to start picking it apart.

Paris for lunch, dinner in St. Petersburg.