I came from abject poverty. There was nowhere to go but up.

Now, what does an actor who can't talk do? Wait for silent pictures to come back?

I have one computer that my wife gave me. All I know how to do, and I do it every day, is play Spider Solitaire. And I don't have a cell phone.

Listen - pacemaker, crash, stroke. What does it mean? God doesn't want me now. That's all.

I bought the book, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. I paid to have it made into a play and I played in it for six months. I came back and I tried to make it into a movie, without success.

What would my parents think about America if they arrived here today? Would they even want to come? I wonder.

Since my stroke, I have begun to see so many miracles all around me. I look out of the window in my room: verdant grass, silver-tipped oak leaves, tall palm trees gentle swaying as they reach to the sky, masses and masses of roses. All colors, so many shapes, exquisite fragrances.