I'd Rather Eat Nothing Than

I Don't Like This Idea Of Division: That If You're A Clever Woman Then You've Got To Be A Particular Way. Because Men Don't. Men Please Themselves.

I Love Prada. Not So Much The Clothes, Which Are For Malnourished Thirteen-year-olds, But I Covet, With Covety Covetousness, The Shoes And Handbags. Like, I Love Them. If I Was Given A Choice Between World Peace And A Prada Handbag, I'd Dither. (i'm Not Proud Of This, I'm Only Saying.)

No More Humiliation For Me, Thanks Very Much. No More Swallowing My Anger. Honestly, I Couldn't Manage Another Mouthful. But It Was Delicious. Did You Make It Yourself?

I Rang My Mother To Thank Her For Giving Birth To Me And She Said, "what Choice Had I? You Were In There, How Else Were You Going To Get Out?

I've Never Made A Secret Of The Fact That I'd Have Loved To Have Children.