Lover? I don't know. I don't know if she loves me. I don't know if I love her. All I can say is, she's the one I think about. All the time. She's the voice I want to hear. She's the face I hope to see.
I just look better in simple black things.
It doesn't matter how old you are, or what you do in your life, you never stop needing your mom.
I look like people that walk down the street. I don't have perfect boobs, I don't have zero cellulite - of course I don't - and I'm curvy. If that is something that makes women feel empowered in any way, that's great.
Femininity for me means happiness and freedom. . . freedom of being who you are in whatever shape or size you come in.
Ultimately, you just have one life. You never know unless you try. And you never get anywhere unless you ask.
If being crazy means living life as if it matters, then I don't mind being completely insane.
No clouds are in the morning sky, The vapors hug the stream, Who says that life and love can die In all this northern gleam? At every turn the maples burn, The quail is whistling free, The partridge whirs, and the frosted burs Are dropping for you and me. Ho! hillyho! heigh O! Hillyho! In the clear October morning.
I'm just glad that the whole John Wayne persona of a man is sort of old school now, because I'd never be able to do that. If that was the going rate today, I wouldn't be working.
Ah, the truth, what a thing it is! I sacrifice so much for it, with people: I forego, for truth's sake, discretion, loyalty, diplomacy, tact, polite manners, elegance, grace, poise, balance, good taste, conformity, image-role, fashionableness, polish, confidences, promises, ambition, consistency, identity, clarity, comprehensibleness, good will, hypocrisy, and lots of other things--amass sacrifice, at truth's altar. God! is truth worth it? I hope it is. It better be, in fact.
Philosophy is a bad master for poetry; religion worse; and politics self-serving will never serve the Muse.