Yes, she was a poem, she was a dream, she was a spirit...

Back in Hollywood Hospital, there were no scrubs. The doctors were very well dressed, and the patients were in pajamas. The doctor in charge of the whole place wore baby-blue alligator shoes, drove a light blue '59 Cadillac convertible, and wore what I was sure was the button to end the world as a tie clip.

It is the images of women, kind and cruel, that lead me home

in touch with the erotic, I become less willing to accept the powerlessness, or those other supplied states of being which are not native to me, such as resignation, despair, self-effacement, depression, self-denial.

Is it any coincidence that the plastic surgeons most interested in pushing breast reconstruction and most involved in the superficial aspects of women's breasts speak the language of sexist pigs?

Be ugly, be God

You're so beautiful, Dominique. Its such a lovely accident on God's part that there's one person who matches inside and out.

She did not smile, but her face had the lovely serenity that can become a smile without transition.

The curves of your lips rewrite history.

Love yourself just as you are.

It is kindness in a person, not beauty that wins our love.

She firmly believes feminism to be anti-woman because it pressures women to become more like men.