“I think that everyone has something about themselves that they feel is their weakness… their ‘disability.’”

I would slide into second with my prostheses, and the girl on the base could either step aside or meet two wooden sticks.

With L’Oreal, I get to be Aimee Mullins, model. No qualifier. And that means everything to me.

If it’s putting on a great dance record and rocking out in your apartment, do it. If kissing someone for 10 minutes makes you feel confident, do it.

The legs that I have made are far more perfect than the ones nature would have given me – my mother’s side of the family have awful legs.

You feel impacted by not having it. It’s an important part of your daily function and what you can do in a day.

The Pentagon isn’t a place that champions individuality and innovation.

It is our humanity, and all the potential within it that makes us beautiful.

I haven’t had an easy life, but at some point ,you have to take responsibility for yourself and shape who it is that you want to be.

I’ve had journalists asking me, ‘What do we call you – is it handicapped, are you disabled, physically challenged?’

I’m not an advocate for disability issues. Human issues are what interest me.

At some point in every person’s life, you will need an assisted medical device – whether it’s your glasses, your contacts, or as you age and you have a hip replacement or a knee replacement or a pacemaker. The prosthetic generation is all around us.

I had a paper round and every night I would put the dinner on before Mum came home from work. I was capable because I had to be.

When I’m curious about something, I do it full on and take it as far as I go, but when I feel like I’ve really explored it, I’m OK with putting it aside and going on to something else.

An athlete experiences the emotions of pain and elation through triumph and defeat, through teamwork and individuality, as nothing more than a human being…that is the true glory of sport.

Giving up is conceding that things will never get better, and that is just not true.

I hate the words ‘handicapped’ and ‘disabled’. They imply that you are less than whole. I don’t see myself that way at all.

People presume my disability has to do with being an amputee, but that’s not the case.

You amputate part of a nose, that’s ‘enhancement’. You put a prosthetic in a breast cavity, that’s ‘augmentation’. But you amputate part of a limb and put a prosthetic there, it’s ‘disability’?

The only true disability is a crushed spirit

Truthfully, the only real and consistent disability I’ve had to confront is the world ever thinking that I could be described by those definitions.

For every disability you have, you are blessed with more than enough abilities to overcome your challenges.

Often people ask how I manage to be happy despite having no arms and no legs. The quick answer is that I have a choice. I can be angry about not having limbs, or I can be thankful that I have a purpose. I chose gratitude.

Pain is Pain. Broken is Broken. FEAR is the Biggest Disability of all. And will PARALYZE you More Than Being in a Wheelchair.

Fear is a bigger disability than having no arms and no legs.