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After having supplied myself with provisions from Mr. Travis's, I scratched a hole under a pile of fence rails in a field, where I concealed myself for six weeks, never leaving my hiding place but for a few minutes in the dead of night to get water, which was very near.

I spent years shaking the damage that comes with being burned by living near someone else's spotlight.

One time I semi-wrecked my uncle's truck. He told me to back it up into a ditch, but my foot slipped and I gunned it a little too much. But now I use one foot, and I do not run into stuff - at least I try not to.

On recovering my senses, I hastened to quit a place where I hoped there was nothing further to detain me. I first filled my pockets with gold, then fastened the strings of the purse round my neck, and concealed it in my bosom.

If you've ever done something you love and go do something you like, it's like chewing on sawdust.

I lose things all the time. I once left my mother's ashes at a bus stop!

There's only one thing I never did and wish I had done: climbed over a fence.

There are very few things I've done just twice in my life, 40 years apart, and one is to backpack on the Pacific Crest Trail across the California/Oregon border.