live your life as if you may lose everything.

If you want to be happy for life, love what you do.

The truth is I hate cocktail parties when the only person I know is my supposed date, and he abandons me the minute we come in the door.

When someone is mean to me, I just make them a victim in my next book.

The flame of inspiration needs to be encouraged. Put a glass around that small candle and protect it from discouragement or ridicule.

Writing is storytelling. No matter how you slice it, you're saying, 'Once upon a time.' That's what writing is all about.

Happines is like mercury. Hard to hold, and when we drop it, it shatters into a million pieces. Maybe the bravest of all are those who have the courage to reach for it again.

Approach your lives as if they were novels, with their own heroes, villains, red herrings, and triumphs.

The first four months of writing the book, my mental image is scratching with my hands through granite. My other image is pushing a train up the mountain, and it's icy, and I'm in bare feet.

A library is a path to the future--find yours there.

Funny, when you finally faced reality, it was amazing how clearly you could see things.

Don't insult me today just because I'm poor, you don't know what my future holds!

Something I learned in the Marine Corps that I've applied to acting is, one, taking direction, and then working with a group of people to accomplish a mission and knowing your role within that team.

Papa always makes it clear that he would like to know me as much more rational and lucid than the girls and women he gets to know during his analytic hours.

If we added up the killed and wounded from the Democrat wars in this country, it would be about 1.6 million Americans.

I watched Hillary Clinton. What a sad - what a sad situation. Every time I mention her, everyone screams, "Lock her up." "Lock her up, lock her up, lock her up," they keep screaming.

But be careful about the parts you agree to play...You never know when one is going to stick.

Some of the worst elements of Guyland rest on the twin pillars of men's silence and women's compliance.

I treat myself occasionally and don't have any guilt or conditions placed on it.

How happy I would be if I could give figurative expression to the unconscious feeling that often murmurs so softly and sweetly within me.

Is this really Butte, Montana, or just existential blues?