Almost every morning when I go to the studio to work, I discover a fresh rose in the bud vase on my dressing table... one living and vital thing in a dusty arena of powder and tissue and matches and greasepaint.

They can spend $10 and still get a rose and a bud vase. We try to make sure there's something for everybody. You don't have to spend a lot of money.

I think every young girl at some point in her early life wonders what it's like to be a princess. They like the idea of dressing up and the fun of it.

There is one thing I should say, and it's important: Young Broadway singers and anybody who is an orator of any kind - lawyers who have to speak in court or pastors or anyone who has a lot of stress on their vocal cords: You should do the maintenance. You should do whatever it takes to feel fresh and good.

Each morning the day lies like a fresh shirt on our bed; this incomparably fine, incomparably tightly woven tissue of pure prediction fits us perfectly. The happiness of the next twenty-four hours depends on our ability, on waking, to pick it up.

God's mercy is fresh and new every morning.