You don’t owe prettiness to anyone. Not to your boyfriend/spouse/partner, not to
your co-workers, especially not to random men on the street. You don’t owe it to your mother, you don’t owe it to your children, you don’t owe it to civilization in general. Prettiness is not a rent you pay for occupying a space marked ‘female’.
If you want someone to stop listening to you go ahead and yell. If you want them to listen to every word, whisper.
Singing is probably the better medicine than half the stuff they sell in pill bottles, and it’s cheaper, too.
Experiences is just paying attention as time passes.
The rule is, don't speak of the dead, not don't speak ill of the dead's terrible relatives.
People say to me, ‘How do I know if a word is real?’ You know, anybody who’s read a children’s book knows that love makes things real. If you love a word, use it. That makes it real.