“Stop smiling!” she ordered. “I can see you, Carter. Oh…and, uh, hullo, Walt.”The pot monster made squeaky grinding noises as it stood up straight. One clunky arm rose and tried to fix Sadie’s nonexistent hair. Leave it to Sadie to beself-conscious around boys, even when she’s made out of pots and duct tape.”

“Mr. Pot drank ten pots of coffee, even though I only made eight. That’s a savings of 20%!
”

“I made plans out of hope, expectation, desire, and duct tape, and I broke those plans with my bare hands.”

“Connection with gardens, even small ones, even potted plants, can become windows to the inner life. The simple act of stopping and looking at the beauty around us can be prayer.”

“I carefully lifted out of the pose and spoke up: "Uh, Fran? When I'm doing the pose (camel), I have this feeling in my chest, kind of a scary, tight feeling."Fran was adjusting someone across the room. She had a way of looking like a thoughtful seamstress when she made adjustments: an inch let out here, a seam straightened there, and everything would be just right. She might as well have had pins tucked between her lips and a tape measure around her neck. Without missing a beat or looking up she said, "Oh, that's fear. Try the pose again."Fear. I hadn't even known it was there.”

“The story ends with a crack the actor Hans Conreid made on seeing my two hundred black and white pots. Said Hans, "You're one actor no one will ever be able to say he hasn't got a pot to..." End quote.”