I have raced against the clock since I went into advertising at the age of eighteen.
I should point out that I was intimately involved with a group of women here a year and a half ago when there was an effort made by a right wing element in the President’s party to get him to turn back the clock.
News is virtual now. It is not 24-hour news cycles; it is instant news cycles. It is live. News is live all the time, around the clock.
Work is a necessity for man. Man invented the alarm clock.
You don’t have to be a mathematician to work out that Rory McIlroy is going to have more chances at 25 than I am at 38. The clock is ticking. It would be nicer to be a multiple-major winner than a major winner. But it would be nice to be a major winner, at the minute!
I guess it turns out choosing your life partner from a group of men trying to get their break in show business by sitting around shirtless in a swimming pool while cameras watch around the clock isn’t the path to a soulmate after all.
No other teammates can help you when you’re on the ice by yourself against the clock. So I decided that if I’m going to race on my own, I’m going to train on my own.
Sometimes when I hear criticism of my husband, I want to come out of my seat and clock somebody. But you learn to take a deep breath.
