What are we, if not an accumulation of our memories?

It's so difficult, isn't it? To see what's going on when you're in the absolute middle of something? It's only with hindsight we can see things for what they are.

I closed my eyes and abandoned myself to my grief. It felt better, somehow, to be helpless. I didn't feel ashamed.

I want him to be happy. And I want you to be happy, too. Even if you can only find that happiness without me.

I wish I hadn't. I wish I'd fought for you. I was weak and stupid.

With him everything is a test, affection is measured, that given weighed against that which has been received, and the balance, more often than not, disappointing him.

Thoughts race, as if, in a mind devoid of memory, each idea has too much space to grow and move, to collide with others in a shower of sparks before spinning off into its own distance.

There are memories I am better off without. Things better lost forever.

Positive mind, positive life.

I'm not surfing much anymore, but I love hiking and gardening, and I'm always wearing a hat and sunblock.

Writing is an act of cherishing... It is an act of love.

Every homeless puppy and kitten was born to parents who weren't spayed or neutered. I'm proud to support PETA's work to prevent animal homelessness.

What I know for sure is that pleasure is energy reciprocated. What you put out comes back. Your base level of pleasure is determined by how you view your whole life.

Bullying is a terrible, terrible thing.

Does it matter whether you hate yourself? At least love your eyes that can see, your mind that can hear the music, the thunder of the wings.

You have to start from where you are today and from what can be done.

I'm not looking to set a standard... but, I believe I have offered a challenge to others with my work.

It's very different. You do so many things in this play. You can't just focus on acting or singing. You have to be good at both. I'm very glad I did this play.