In the beginning of my career, I read an article about the reason that men always look five years younger than women is because they shave.

Modelling opened up the world to me. All my friends were bohemian artists and were a little bit appalled when I sold out and did something so bourgeois. I'd say, 'Come on, guys, with what I earn from this job, we can all go to Morocco.'

I've gotten into the habit of cranking out a set of push-ups before each show to get my blood pumping and find my focus. I worked my way up from eight to 30. That was a real accomplishment.

Whenever I wore a bathing suit, I kept a sarong around my hips that went halfway down my thighs. The tops of my thighs are like baby skin. Where the sarong ended, I can see sun damage: I've got dark spots and places where there is no melanin. The spots are not pretty, so I encourage everyone to protect their skin from the sun.

Marriage resembles a pair of shears, so joined that they cannot be separated; often moving in opposite directions, yet always punishing anyone who comes between them.

You would think that a rock star being married to a supermodel would be one of the greatest things in the world. It is.

Love has its own instinct, finding the way to the heart, as the feeblest insect finds the way to its flower, with a will which nothing can dismay nor turn aside.

Marriage: love, honor, and negotiate.