When my husband died in 2006, I didn't want to be Mitzi Gaynor anymore.

Nothing fazes me anymore.

I'm not a 21-year-old angsty self-destructive rapscallion anymore.

I don't have aluminum foil on my windows anymore.

Adults don't have the opportunity to pretend anymore.

I'll be the judge of when I can't play anymore.

I honestly don't want to act anymore.

Static strikers do not exist anymore.

There are no more Walt Disneys anymore.

I'll be the judge of when I can't play anymore.

I can't drive anymore.

If I shave, I don't have a chin anymore.

I don't really write songs anymore.

I don't edit on laptops anymore.

I don't want to be considered a gymnast anymore.

I'm not a girl anymore.

Mumbai is not safe anymore.

There are no George Baileys anymore.

I don't have life rage anymore.

I can't do anything quietly anymore.