Probably my husband. In a world of bullshitters, he steers a tremendously honest course.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Maybe if we all admire her hard enough, she’ll live beyond this incredibly disturbing era.

I have to say myself, because I know everything that he’s been through and still continues to go through. I admire him. So I vote me – I like him.

The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. They are inspirational. They are going to take on a great responsibility and are preparing themselves for it.

Dying just a millisecond before I was about to say something I really wanted the people I love to hear.

Since hostile people still call me a former Playboy Bunny, even at 82, I probably shouldn’t have done that in my youth, even to write an exposé. And since a couple of times they’ve also referred to me as a former CIA agent, because I went to two Soviet-era communist youth festivals, I probably shouldn’t have done that, either. Yet if I hadn’t done both, I might have judged other people by such empty symbols, too.

I haven’t done it yet.

Sometimes when I’m on a plane, as I often am, the weather is rough and we’re worried about going down. I think: If I hold the hand of the person next to me, I’ll be holding everyone’s hand. Like my dear friend, the late Wilma Mankiller, principal chief of the Cherokee Nation, I want to know: I’m going to the other side of the mountain.

Being a salesgirl in a baby shop where the others said things like, “He’s Jewish, but she’s American.” Also, after college, being a waitress in London, and trying to make change in the old money of shillings and pence.

I’ve had cancer three times, but never felt close to death except when I walked between parked cars on my street and a car sped past my nose.