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As a child, I had a serious illness that lasted for two years or more. I have vague recollections of this illness and of my being carried about a great deal. I was known as the 'sick one.' Whether this illness gave me a twist away from ordinary paths, I don't know; but it is possible.

You go into the disease as one person and come out of it as a different person. It has changed my perspective on everything. Things that used to upset me no longer do.

Yes, illness is serious, but the indignities are also funny. And that defines my world view.

I still have in my memory, almost agonizing impressions of a serious illness which I had when I was about eight years old. Those about me called it scarlet fever, and its very name seemed to have a diabolical quality.

When my father died, I was 21, and he'd been sick for a few years. He changed during his illness. He kind of softened during it.

Illness has always brought me nearer to a state of grace.

I felt I came back rather quickly from being ill and didn't give myself the time to reflect.

An illness is like a journey into a far country; it sifts all one's experience and removes it to a point so remote that it appears like a vision.

There is no sickness worse for me than words that to be kind must lie.