Quotes from Jessica Simpson

I love religion.

I want to be as healthy as I can because I'm a mom now.

Weight Watchers is not intimidating. It's not a diet. It's a lifestyle.

I love watching people's dreams come true.

It's important to fall in love with someone you don't want to change.

People always say that pregnant women have a glow. And I say it's because you're sweating to death.

A marriage doesn't have to be perfect, but you can be perfect for each other.

I have so much respect for my mom and all the women across the world.

I'm interested in learning more about myself and what I value in myself and letting that be the beautiful part of me, rather than putting on the makeup or wearing the right designer.

I think Angelina Jolie has done amazing, amazing things, and the international adoption rate just since her has skyrocketed. It's unbelievable.

The kids are asleep, and my husband is reading in the other room. So, it's just you and me. Every night after we put our children to bed, I come down here to the study to write. It's cold here in Los Angeles, so bedtimes have been creeping later. My daughter Maxwell is six now and my son Ace is five, and they have the kind of energy that

I think there's a difference between ditzy and dumb. Dumb is just not knowing. Ditzy is having the courage to ask.

Let's just promise to be there for one another in our imminent and enduring times of trouble and thunder." "Deal," I said. He always talked like that. I would moon over him to CaCee, using that same lofty language.

copy: "I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.

The final day came, and I wore an outfit my mom and I put together from the $5 rack at a discount store. I had a Blossom-style derby hat, denim jacket, and a tie with pigs on it. (Remember, my cousin Sarah loved pigs, so I loved pigs.) It all made sense in 1993.

My mother wanted me to take a break and just focus on school for a bit. "Just be an eighth grader," she said. "Try being a cheerleader." Be a cheerleader, they said. It will be fun, they said.

but we can't allow ourselves to do the work for bullies. Give a girl an insult, she'll feel bad for a day, but teach her to hate her body, she'll feel bad forever.

When I performed at abstinence rallies, people were especially hard on me. I would be wearing the exact same shorts and T-shirts other girls my age wore and get yelled at for dressing sexy.

Still, I was present. I kept a promise I made to myself a little over a year before to show up in my own life. To feel things, whether they were the result of bad memories, or good ones in the making.

For years, I occupied my time trying and failing to be the woman the men in my life wanted me to be. Never just me. I ran into situation after situation, telling myself that the reason I had so much anxiety and was scared to death to be alone at night was because I just needed to be a better person for whomever I was trying to please at the time.

I told myself, Eventually, you'll get it together. There was always a later. Soon the kids will notice, I worried. I never grew up with alcohol in the house, and we had so much. If the kids started questioning us about why, I wouldn't have the answer. Because I didn't know why we had so much alcohol. Except that our house was always the party house for all our friends. When the kids notice, I promised myself, I'd stop.

The Casa Hogar Elim orphanage was about a dozen miles from the Texas border town of Laredo and a world away for us kids from church youth group. There were about a hundred of us that first time I went. On the bus from the airport in San Antonio, we leafed through magazines, showing each other a Ford Mustang convertible we had to have and the red, white, and blue Tommy Hilfiger ad for the white polo that was different from every polo we already had because this one was Tommy Hilfiger.

We started "dating" when I was in the eighth grade, but our time together was always chaperoned. Dad would even listen in on my phone calls, and my mom would scream at him to stop.

If a tortured artist hurls a nasty email at 10 p.m. and then a love song at 11:20, are you up or down?