Don't waste time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you'll have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either of them might run out.

Like many women my age, I am 28 years old.

Reading is a discount ticket to everywhere.

The movies we love and admire are to some extent a function of who we are when we see them.

You can map your life through your favorite movies, and no two people's maps will be the same.

Linda Tripp has shown that a true friend is an archivist, a biographer.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. The older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Every day each of us wakes up, reaches into drawers and closets, pulls out a costume for the day and proceeds to dress in a style that can only be called preposterous.

Good art is art that allows you to enter it from a variety of angles and to emerge with a variety of views.

In twenty years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.

Barbie is just a doll.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, don't put up with those who are reckless with yours.

You can figure out who you were by which movies you loved when.

Don't waste time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind.

TV happens. And once it's happened, it's gone. When it's gone, you move on, no tears, no tantrums, no videotape.

'The Hunger Games' isn't for everybody. But neither is 'Anna Karenina.'

A line from one of my 1997 columns - 'Do one thing every day that scares you' - is now widely attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt, though I have yet to see any evidence that she ever said it and I don't believe she did. She said some things about fear, but not that thing.

Chicago is constantly auditioning for the world, determined that one day, on the streets of Barcelona, in Berlin's cabarets, in the coffee shops of Istanbul, people will know and love us in our multidimensional glory, dream of us the way they dream of San Francisco and New York.

For some Chicago expats, food is the medicine that blunts the pain of separation.

Here's a thing about the death of your mother, or anyone else you love: You can't anticipate how you'll feel afterward. People will tell you; a few may be close to right, none exactly right.

I couldn't have foreseen all the good things that have followed my mother's death. The renewed energy, the surprising sweetness of grief. The tenderness I feel for strangers on walkers. The deeper love I have for my siblings and friends. The desire to play the mandolin. The gift of a visitation.

On an average day, we allow ourselves the fiction that we own a piece of our workplace. That's part of what it takes to get the job done. Deeper down, we know it's all on loan.

One thing you might want to learn before you attend the world's largest ukulele lesson is how to say ukulele.

Opening day. All you have to do is say the words and you feel the shutters thrown wide, the room air out, the light pour in. In baseball, no other day is so pure with possibility. No scores yet, no losses, no blame or disappointment. No hangover, at least until the game's over.

The first gay person I ever met was surely not the first gay person I ever met.

Worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum.

Chicago is constantly auditioning for the world determined that one day on the streets of Barcelona in Berlins cabarets in the coffee shops of Istanbul people will know and love us in our multidimensional glory dream of us the way they dream of San Francisco and New York.

Understand that friends come and go but with a precious few you should hold on. The older you get the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, and don't put up with people that are reckless with yours.

Replace the words "have to" with "get to" and watch how the cold rain on your life changes to sunshine.

Obviously, in dealing with a relationship, sexuality has to be involved, and jealousy and emotions like that. And I don't know, I've always been intrigued by those emotions.

Jealousy is bred in doubts. When those doubts change into certainties, then the passion either ceases or turns absolute madness.

That is ever the way. Tis all jealousy to the bride and good wishes to the corpse.

Nothing is more capable of troubling our reason, and consuming our health, than secret notions of jealousy in solitude.

Jealousy is the jaundice of the soul.

Those who enjoy their own emotionally bad health and who habitually fill their own minds with the rank poisons of suspicion, jealousy and hatred, as a rule take umbrage at those who refuse to do likewise, and they find a perverted relief in trying to denigrate them.

My birth neither shook the German Empire nor caused much of an upheaval in the home. It pleased mother, caused father a certain amount of pride and my elder brother the usual fraternal jealousy of a hitherto only son.

Back then I didn't think a woman like that, or a relationship like that, could exist with complete freedom and no jealousy or possessiveness. I thought it sounded too good to be true and I was certainly convinced it wasn't the life for me!

Jealousy - that jumble of secret worship and ostensible aversion.

Serious sport has nothing to do with fair play. It is bound up with hatred, jealousy, boastfulness, disregard of all rules and sadistic pleasure in witnessing violence. In other words, it is war minus the shooting.

What we used to say was whoever had the bow tie got to lead the band. There was never any jealousy.

Jealousy is, I think, the worst of all faults because it makes a victim of both parties.

The knives of jealousy are honed on details.

There is a sort of jealousy which needs very little fire; it is hardly a passion, but a blight bred in the cloudy, damp despondency of uneasy egoism.

Jealousy would be far less torturous if we understood that love is a passion entirely unrelated to our merits.

Jealousy springs more from love of self than from love of another.

Jealousy is not at all low, but it catches us humbled and bowed down, at first sight.

Anger and jealousy can no more bear to lose sight of their objects than love.