“No one wants to hear about how awesome you were; people want to hear about the time you blew it.”

I love to be busy and be challenged. I’m my happiest when I’m under pressure and almost overwhelmed by how much I have to get done.

But I think what diversity brings to any daypart is more eyeballs, just more opportunity.

So what I would say to other people is to just embrace who you are because you will become instantly happier.

All these young books for women are like I’m 29 with a closet full of Prada shoes and I can’t get a date. Come on.

I have always been a softie, and I fight it with every fiber of my being. Sadly, my being’s fibers need to hit the gym.

It is hard, it lasts all day, the lighting is generally fluorescent, and, apparently, drinking at your desk is frowned upon.

I love to be busy and be challenged. I’m my happiest when I’m under pressure and almost overwhelmed by how much I have to get done.

I don’t know if I was always an open person, but I think stand-up comics specifically have this way of running towards embarrassing things.

Real sacrifice. Real disappointment. Real failure. And it requires the ability to scrape your sorry ass up off the floor, stumble to your feet.

If you ever needed to ruin someone’s fun, I mean really poop a party, just move things to the workplace. Fun terminated.

I can tell you this: Stand-up is not glamorous.

A belief in feminism is a belief in personal freedom.

Real success and accomplishment, at whatever it is you are passionate about, requires real work.

I love being married. I love my husband. I think married people always have that thing where they think that the grass is greener on the single side, but all my single friends are like,

Wounds turn into scars and scars make you tough.

I’m such a geek, and have always been a real nerd.

A woman called me interesting once, and it kind of blew my mind. She said, ‘You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met,’ and I was like, ‘Wow.’

I asked these Indians: “Do men ever make Chicha?” My question was met with gales of laughter. The women howled. Bent over in hilarity, one replied, “Men can’t brew. Chicha made by men would only make gas in the belly.