If I had not been discriminated against or had not suffered persecution, I would never have received the Nobel Prize.

At 20, I realized that I could not possibly adjust to a feminine role as conceived by my father and asked him permission to engage in a professional career. In eight months I filled my gaps in Latin, Greek and mathematics, graduated from high school, and entered medical school in Turin.

After a short period spent in Brussels as a guest of a neurological institute, I returned to Turin on the verge of the invasion of Belgium by the German army, Spring 1940, to join my family. The two alternatives left then to us were either to emigrate to the United States, or to pursue some activity that needed neither support nor connection with the outside Aryan world where we lived. My family chose this second alternative. I then decided to build a small research unit at home and installed it in my bedroom.

The process for awarding Nobel prizes is so complex that it cannot be corrupted.

My life has been enriched by excellent human relations, work and interests. I have never felt lonely.

My experience in childhood and adolescence of the subordinate role played by the female in a society run entirely by men had convinced me that I was not cut out to be a wife.

I tell young people: Do not think of yourself, think of others. Think of the future that awaits you, think about what you can do and do not fear anything.