I love Chicago. I lived there briefly for three months and kept a boat under one of those space-age buildings. It was very Jetsons.

I'm the kind of person who would have liked to have lived at the Plaza. I love crystal chandeliers and gold leaf, velvets and mirrors, Oriental rugs and marble.

I love things that are old and glittery, that come with layers of glamour and past lives.

Man may have discovered fire, but women discovered how to play with it.

I'm looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love.

The women I know who have children and have careers, they seem to be very happy. They love their children and they love their jobs. But happiness comes out of being willing to do your work in your twenties to find out who you are, what you love.