If I die tomorrow or in a year, it is the same — it is the message you leave behind you that counts.

Above all, don’t fear difficult moments. The best comes from them

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.

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

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.

The instruments, glassware, and chemical reagents necessary for my project were the same as my 19th-century predecessors had.

I told Mother of my decision to study medicine. She encouraged me to speak to Father... I began in a roundabout way... He listened, looking at me with that serious and penetrating gaze of his that caused me such trepidation, and asked whether I knew what I wanted to do.