When I was younger, I was always described as happy-go-lucky.

'Why do you think it is...', I asked Dr. Cook ... 'that brain surgery, above all else-even rocket science-gets singled out as the most challenging of human feats, the one demanding the utmost of human intelligence?' [Dr. Cook answered,] 'No margin for error.'

I often say now I don't have any choice whether or not I have Parkinson's, but surrounding that non-choice is a million other choices that I can make.

When I was younger, I was always described as happy-go-lucky.

My happiness grows in direct proportion to my acceptance, and in inverse proportion to my expectations.

The only thing worse than an opportunity you don't deserve is blowing an opportunity.

If I don't get food in my mouth, I'm still happy. If my pants are round my ankles, as long as I don't get arrested for indecent exposure, I'm happy. I'm worried about keeping my hair, not how it's combed.