I'll see a celadon green room in an 18th century New Hampshire house and just fall in love. Colors stay in my head.

All the time we were there, you could see that dead squirrel right out in plain sight. Whenever anyone mentions New Hampshire, that squirrel is always what I think of. I bet I’ve thought about that squirrel a million times.

I'm a kid from New Hampshire who's pretty normal.

New Hampshire is one of the birthplaces of American freedom and independence - a place with a love and a passion for liberty.

Eighteenth century American furniture and the design of the architects Greene and Greene are my special love.

As I walked over the loose fragments of stone, which lay scattered and surveyed the sublimity and grandeur of the ruins, I recurred, by a natural association of ideas, to the times when these walls stood proudly in their original splendor, when the halls were the scenes of hospitality and festive magnificence, and when they resounded with the voices of those whom death had long since swept from earth. "Thus," said I, "shall the present generation - he who now sink in misery - and he who now swim in pleasure, alike pass away and be forgotten.