“Make up your mind to this. If you are different, you are isolated, not only from people of your own age but from those of your parents' generation and from your children's generation too. They'll never understand you and they'll be shocked no matter what you do. But your grandparents would probably be proud of you and say: 'There's a chip off the old block,' and your grandchildren will sigh enviously and say: 'What an old rip Grandma must have been!' and they'll try to be like you.”

“You have to get away from them. You have to get as far away as you can otherwise they'll kill you with their lives. They don't know what they do. They are careless with themselves and they take too much for granted. They make their shortcomings your problem. The only way to keep your head above it and heal your wounds is to crawl away.”

“They'll be days like this" my momma said.When you open your hands to catch, and wind up with only blisters and bruises.When you try to step out of the phone booth and try to fly , and the very people you want to save, are the ones standing on your cape.When your boots will fill with rain, and you'll be up to your knees with disappointmentAnd those are the very days you have all the more reason to say "Thank you".”

“What makes me say these things is that I see how much you care about the way people look at you. It matters too much to you. And there are people who take advantage of that. They haven't got anything of their own and they'll leave you nothing for yourself. They want to put themselves in your thoughts and in your mind, and that you should care for them. It's a sickness. But they don't want you to care for them as they really are. No, that's the whole stunt. You have to be conscious of them, but not as they are, only as they love to be seen. They live through observation by the ones around them, and they want you to live like that too. Augie darling, don't do it. They will make you suffer from what they are. And you don't really matter to them.”

“Does it matter?--losing your legs?...For people will always be kind,And you need not show that you mindWhen the others come in after footballTo gobble their muffins and eggs.Does it matter?--losing your sight?...There's such splendid work for the blind;And people will always be kind,As you sit on the terrace rememberingAnd turning your face to the light.Do they matter?--those dreams from the pit?...You can drink and forget and be glad,And people won't say that you're mad;For they'll know that you've fought for your country,And no one will worry a bit.”

“I hate doctors! They'll do anything... to keep you coming to them. They'll sell their souls. What's worse, they'll sell yours, and you never know it till one day you find yourself in hell.”