When I see a woman who is all gaunt and emaciated, I don't think she's beautiful. She reminds me of a Chihuahua that's freezing and shaking.
Everyone has his faults which he continually repeats: neither fear nor shame can cure them.
The moon is bland in color. I call it shades of gray. You know, the only color we see is what we bring or the Earth, which is looking down upon us all the time. And to find orange soil on the moon was a surprise.

