"There was one rumor that I saw in a magazine saying I was pregnant. I thought that was brilliant and it still crops up now. But it's definitely not true. I can promise you that."

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I respect not his labors, his farm where everything has its price, who would carry the landscape, who would carry his God, to market, if he could get anything for him; who goes to market for his god as it is; on whose farm nothing grows free, whose fields bear no crops, whose meadows no flowers, whose trees no fruits, but dollars.

— Henry David Thoreau