When your mother asks, "Do you want a piece of advice?" it's a mere formality. It doesn't matter if you answer yes or no. You're going to get it anyway.

There is a thin line that separates laughter and pain, comedy and tragedy, humor and hurt.

I am not a glutton - I am an explorer of food

Housework can kill you if done right.

Sometimes I can't figure designers out. It's as if they flunked human anatomy.

Humor is a spontaneous, wonderful bit of an outburst that just comes. It's unbridled, its unplanned, it's full of suprises.

Written on her tombstone: "I told you I was sick.

Everyone is guilty at one time or another of throwing out questions that beg to be ignored, but mothers seem to have a market on the supply. "Do you want a spanking or do you want to go to bed?" Don't you want to save some of the pizza for your brother?" Wasn't there any change?

A grandmother pretends she doesn't know who you are on Halloween.