If I were white, I could capture the world.

I can't play a slave.

. . . as for helping me in the outside world, the Convent taught me only that if you spit on a pencil eraser, it will erase ink.

Not only is there no building like it in Iowa, but there is no building like it in the world.

I was passionate. I found something that I loved. I could be all alone in a big old skating rink and nobody could get near me and I didn't have to talk to anybody because of my shyness. It was great. I was in my fantasy world.

I felt like a wonderful sandwich, a slice of white bread between two slices of ham.