“At my funeral, I want Meryl Streep crying in five different accents.”

You know you’re getting old when work is a lot less fun and fun is a lot more work.

Bo Derek turned down the role of Helen Keller because she couldn’t remember the lines.

I have flabby thighs, but fortunately my stomach covers them.

Florida wants to change the state’s motto to attract younger people. They’re thinking about: More than just a great place to die.

Keep moving. It’s hard for old age to hit a moving target.

The fashion magazines are suggesting that women wear clothes that are ‘age appropriate.’ For me that would be a shroud.

Grandchildren can be annoying – how many times can you go: “And the cow goes moo and the pig goes oink”? It’s like talking to a supermodel.

When you can laugh at yourself no one can ever make a fool of you.

I was dating a transvestite, and my mother said, “Marry him, you’ll double your wardrobe.”

Nothing is yours permanently so you better enjoy it while it’s happening.

Here’s a Thanksgiving tip. Generally, your turkey is not cooked enough if it passes you the cranberry sauce.

If you laugh at it, you can deal with it.

I got a waterbed, but my husband stocked it with trout.

Some women take up the law and become lawyers. Other women lay down the law and become wives.

I wish I had a twin, so I could know what I’d look like without plastic surgery.

My earliest childhood memory was watching my parents loosen the wheels on my stroller.

You’ll never have any trouble with Mr. T, I’m just a big, calm teddy bear kind of guy. Mr. T ain’t ashamed to cry.

My mother told me, ‘Son, nobody else but God knows.’ And that’s what I’m about – reaching out to the people, crying with them, giving them hope.

When I go out and I meet people who are suffering and they come and talk to me, Mr. T cries, Mr. T who could break a man’s jaw with his fist.

You’re still crying about him aren’t you? Silly girl. What good will it do you to spill those sky blu tears? You meant either everything to him or absolutely nothing at all.

The body is a house of many windows: there we all sit, showing ourselves and crying on the passers-by to come and love us.

There are voices crying what must be done, a hundred, a thousand voices.

Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply… For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much.

But what do they help if one seeks for counsel, for one cries this, and one cries that, and another cries something that is neither this nor that.