Once We Hit Forty, Women

Once We Hit Forty, Women Only Have About Four Taste Buds Left: One For Vodka, One For Wine, One For Cheese, And One For Chocolate.

Anger Is The Quintessential Individual-signature Emotion: I Am What Makes Me Mad.

While I Do Not Believe The Earth Loaned To Us By Our Ancestors Should Be Plagued By Chemical Horrors And Thereby Corrupted For Future Generations, Neither Do I Believe I Should Have To Face Anything That Has More Eyes Than I Have During Dinner. It Was My Rule When I Was Dating And, Heck, It's Still My Rule Now.

Most Cooks Would Not, For Example, Prepare An Important, Elaborate, And Difficult Dish On The Back-burner. Neither Should We Relegate The Cultivation And Preparation Of Happiness For A Position Where It Is Both Hard To Reach And Difficult To Infuse With New Ingredients.

I Have An Intimate Relationship With Books. After All, I Take Them With Me Into The Bathtub-not An Invitation I Offer Lightly.