“The space that I can call mine.. is so small that my ideas have become small. I am like a caterpillar in a cocoon of paper; all around me are sketches for sculptures, small drawings that seem like moths fluttering against the windows, beating their wings to escape from this tiny space.. Every day the ideas come more reluctantly, as though they know I will starve them and stunt their growth.”

“When I consider the small span of my life absorbed in the eternity of all time, or the small part of space which I can touch or see engulfed by the infinite immensity of spaces that I know not and that know me not, I am frightened and astonished to see myself here instead of there … now instead of then.”

“One day a hummingbird flew in--It fluttered against the window til I got it down where I could reach it with an open umbrella----When I had it in my hand it was so small I couldn't believe I had it--but I could feel the intense life--so intense and so tiny--...You were like the humming bird to me...And I am rather inclined to feel that you and I know the best part of one another without spending much time together----It is not that I fear the knowing--It is that I am at this moment willing to let you be what you are to me--it is beautiful and pure and very intensely alive.”

“World, they have taken the small children like butterflies and thrown them, beating their wings, into the fire--”

“When it's like this, I don't notice the cold. I don't hear the wind howling through the empty spaces. I don't feel like a small, broken-winged bird trapped in a rusty cage.”

“I am remarkably likeable. Few people have ever been as likeable as I am. There is, frankly, no end to my likeability. People gather together in public assemblies to discuss how much they like me. I have several awards, and a small medal from a small country in South America which pays tribute both to how much I am liked and my general all around wonderfulness. I don't have it on me, of course. I keep my medals in my sock drawer.”