This is my first opportunity to visit this part of North Africa, so I am going to be able to go back home and talk about this beautiful country and encourage Americans to travel here.
I am so bored with seeing stories about a mature man of 65 falling in love with a beautiful girl of 32.
I certainly used to wish that I was skinny, lighter-skinned, with long, pretty hair. But only because I used to get made fun of for being the absolute opposite. I didn't see all of that stuff as the American Dream. I just wanted to look normal. Now that I'm older, I really do feel like I am a beautiful girl.
I am so tired of ruggedly handsome heroes. I don't know too many ruggedly handsome people who are necessarily nice people. In fact, the beautiful people have a big handicap because they rely too much on their appearance and don't bother to become interesting.
I prefer to say that I am a beautiful person. But the addict is a horrible person.
I can't give more than I have. It doesn't matter if I am the most beautiful person in the room. There is inevitably going to be somebody way shinier and more tan than my pasty self.
If I am in a beautiful place, but I don't like the people, I am miserable.
I have a beautiful wife and two beautiful children, and every day I am paid to do what I love.
I am devastated by the loss of my beautiful wife Jane. She was my best friend.
I know who I am. I am not perfect. I'm not the most beautiful woman in the world. But I'm one of them.
Don't think your dreams don't come true, because they do. You'd better be careful what you wish for. And I truly and honestly - one day I am doing the 'Beaver' show and I said, 'This is the show I have always wanted to do.'
I think I am becoming obsessive-compulsive. David Beckham apparently turns all the Diet Coke cans in his fridge to face the same way every morning, and I nerdily sharpen all the pencils in my pot before sitting down to work.
For me, it's about being a star, being a superstar, and not just winning a world title but becoming the best-ever British fighter this country has ever had. That's what I am, and that's what I intend to do.
I am a big fan of white sheets, hotel bedding and white towels!
I'm opening a store at the end of the month in the New York meatpacking district. I'm launching a line of bedding this summer, and I am writing a book that will be out next January.
Oh, my goodness, I am obsessed with Costco! We do runs at least twice a week. I love the salmon and rotisserie chicken, the dog beds.
I still find the best way to understand a hospitalized patient whose care I am taking over is not by staring at the computer screen but by going to see the patient; it's only at the bedside that I can figure out what is important.
I've said this over and over, but I'll say it a million more times - I'm concerned more about the death of a bee than I am about terrorism. Because we're losing hives and bees by the millions because of such strong pesticides.
I always feel that I have missed some good fortune if I am away from home when my bees swarm. What a delightful summer sound it is! How they come pouring out of the hive, twenty or thirty thousand bees, each striving to get out first!
I have no name: I am but two days old. What shall I call thee? I happy am, Joy is my name. Sweet joy befall thee!
