We haven't actually sat down to do them yet. I don't think there's anything entirely specific that we want to say. It's just a matter of sitting down and letting the words flow.

I could tell the whole day there was something off about him. When he walked in, he wouldn't take his jacket off. He never gets cold. There was no possible reason for him to have his jacket on. The whole time, he looked like he was going to say something and he never did.

We knew we really loved each other. We knew we eventually wanted to get married.

When it was suggested that I write a memoir I said, 'I'm not old enough. I'm not distinguished enough.' But I went home and sat down to write, and the material for the book just came flooding into my hands.

I was a chunky little kid, and when they sat me in that wagon, it tipped backward and I banged my head on the (concrete) floor. I was howling pretty good, but Dad went outside and cried his eyes out.

It just sat up there for a minute, but then it fell off.