“I did have Botox once and I felt like I'd had a stroke. It was so claustrophobic.”

“It was the most terrible feeling. I'd had enough and I'd felt I'd lost something so very important to me. I thought it had died and gone away. And I was frightened it might not come back. I just didn't seem to be able to shake off this feeling of doom and gloom. I had to come home. But to what? I was tired. I missed New York and the show and the people. It was like a grieving process.”

“If I waited till I felt like writing, I'd never write at all.”

“I wish I had a twin, so I could know what I'd look like without plastic surgery.”

“I didn't feel empty. I wished I'd felt empty…. I wanted to be empty like an overturned pitcher. But I was full like a stone.”

“I started stating that maybe I should run for governor. Well, it caught on like wildfire. I felt I'd boxed myself into a corner—if I didn't attempt to do this, I would lose my credibility. And in the world of talk radio, once that happens, you're finished.”

“I didn't like Jaya's Hazaar Chaurasi ki Ma, though I did like her performance. I felt the movie was too verbose. I thought why did they have to make a film? They could have simply written an article.”

“All at once I felt so vain, like a girl posturing for the crowds as she walks along, only to discover the street is empty.”

“All of a sudden I didn't fit in anywhere. Not at school, not at home… and every time I turned around, another person I'd known forever felt like a stranger to me. Even I felt like a stranger to me.”

“It felt like I'd been living underground, and for a moment, I'd been given this glimpse of the sky. Once you've seen that, how can you go back where you came from?”