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And I realized, when I'd come in to the meetings with these corrugated metal and chain link stuff, and people would just look at me like I'd just landed from Mars. But I couldn't do anything else. That was my response to the people and the time.

I have an elbow that bends the wrong way, and I'd do things like stand in an elevator and the doors would close, and I'd pretend that my arm had got caught in it, and then I'd scream, 'Ow, ow, put it back!'

If I was very high-strung, I probably would've knocked a few people out by now, and, you know, you would have seen a bad side of me that probably, hopefully, I'll never show.

I'd get to within a yard of that door you walk through and the thing would go mad. I used to carry an X-ray in my briefcase, to show them. But I had all the metal taken out.

I could put my thumb up to a window and completely hide the Earth. I thought, 'Everything I've ever known is behind my thumb.'

I would have made a lousy stripper. I'm just not very comfortable exposing myself.

You never get to pick how you get pinned and how people perceive you.

I always believed it would happen and stuck to my guns.

If someone grabbed me, I'd probably be able to choke them out in about eight seconds.