Once you’ve read too many trashy best-sellers, you begin to look for something with substance, something that attempts to define the universe.

Writing a NYT bestseller was a delightful experience. But there are many books which are read by few that should be read and reread by many, as well as books bought by many that are hardly worth the ink.

If you are honest with yourself, your life will be so much more pleasant.

Repeat after me: “I am a goddess. I am a goddess. I am a goddess.” Make this your mantra. From constant repetition you will start believing it, and if you yourself are convinced of your goddesshood, other people will be convinced.

I'd rather be a bitch than a doormat.

There's nothing wrong with self-improvement, as long as you recognize that at some point you're going to have to accept yourself in all your imperfect glory. What's wrong with liking yourself the way you are?