There's always going to be a part of me that worries about not looking as slim as other actresses.

She's polite, but she's a little naive. That's what worries me.

We make so many of our own troubles, from mere mishaps to disasters, by dwelling on the possibility of them until the possible becomes inevitable.

Friends, she had realized, could make you do that. Forget the things that worried you most.

No, what worries me, I readily admit, is everything (that is to say, anything and everything) - everything, that is, except the All, which I find soothing.

From the outside looking in, everything looked completely ordinary. The problem was being on the inside, looking out.

I don’t run from these worries though. I invite each one into my heart and mind. At the doorstep of my emotional threshold I greet them like a perfect host. Each worry tracks mud into my home and dirties the furniture. I grit and bear my houseguests. Their time with me will be short-lived.

Rosies mother was a highly strung bundle of barely thought-through prejudices, worries and feuds.

My worries travel about my head on their well-worn path, and it is a relief to put them on paper.

I really couldn't see what the Socs would have to sweat about - good grades, good cars, good girls, madras and Mustangs and Corvairs - Man, I thought, if I had worries like that I'd consider myself lucky.I know better now.