Oh, how I regret not having worn a bikini for the entire year I was twenty-six. If anyone young is reading this, go, right this minute, put on a bikini, and don't take it off until you're thirty-four.

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Your education is a dress rehearsal for a life that is yours to lead.

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I look out the window and I see the lights and the skyline and the people on the street rushing around looking for action, love, and the world's greatest chocolate chip cookie, and my heart does a little dance.

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The Wonderbra is not a step forward for women. Nothing that hurts that much is a step forward for women.

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I am continually fascinated at the difficulty intelligent people have in distinguishing what is controversial from what is merely offensive.

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Here are some questions I am constantly noodling over: Do you splurge or do you hoard? Do you live every day as if it's your last, or do you save your money on the chance you'll live twenty more years? Is life too short, or is it going to be too long? Do you work as hard as you can, or do you slow down to smell the roses? And where do carbohydrates fit into all this? Are we really all going to spend our last years avoiding bread, especially now that bread in American is so unbelievable delicious? And what about chocolate?

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That's another thing about being a certain age that I've noticed: I try as much as possible not to look in the mirror.

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Reading is escape, and the opposite of escape.

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So, twice a week, I go to a beauty salon and have my hair blown dry. It’s cheaper by far than psychoanalysis, and much more uplifting.

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And don't be frightened: you can always change your mind. I know: I've had four careers and three husbands.

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