Women have become so obsessed with not withering, they've forgotten that there are infinite ways to be beautiful.

The minute you settle for less than you deserve, you get even less than you settled for.

[On journalists:] We are a noisy, imperfect lot, struggling to scribble what has been called the first draft of history.

Journalism, spooked by rumors of its own obsolescence, has stopped believing in itself. Groans of doom alternate with panicked happy talk.

The sounds of silence are a dim recollection now, like mystery, privacy and paying attention to one thing — or one person — at a time.

Wooing the press is an exercise roughly akin to picnicking with a tiger. You might enjoy the meal, but the tiger always eats last.

Celebrity distorts democracy by giving the rich, beautiful, and famous more authority than they deserve.

When I need to work up my nerve to write a tough column, I try to think of myself as Emma Peel in a black leather catsuit.

If you're famous enough, the rules don't apply.

A friendship between reporter and source lasts only until it is profitable for one to betray the other.

Celebrity is the religion of our time.

I'm just a regular mother who's trying to save lives and be the best human being I can be.

I'm so nervous. I've always been nervous, ever since I was a kid.

I had been in London innumerable times, and yet till that day I had never noticed one of the worst things about London-the fact that it costs money even to sit down.

After my mother's death, I had such difficulty relating to people.

What matters is: Are you profitable? Are you building something great? Are you taking care of your people? Are you treating your customers well?

To know anything of a poet but his poetry is, so far as the poetry is concerned, to know something that may be entertaining, even delightful, but is certainly inessential.

Lives of faith are the great mirror of the dependability of God.

I still get recognized. It's flattering, but it can be uncomfortable. Maybe because it only seems to happen when I'm looking and feeling crappy.

I am confirmed in my belief that war is utter destructive violent chaos. There is no "art," no "order(s)," no "just war." No matter what the ideologies, wars are the same.

Punch a man on the nose, kick an old man downstairs, shoot somebody or any old thing like that, that’s my job. But argue with women in love—no thank you!