Quotes from Jane Hawking

I never sacrificed myself. I did what I did out of love.

We were under scrutiny when Stephen became rich and famous. The media were in the house, and camera leads were absolutely everywhere - it was just nightmarish.

Stephen's belief was that if you were free to do your absolute best work, you would be rewarded. My belief was that if you gave all of yourself to what you believed was right, then that would be enough.

The goddess Physics was Stephen's idol. I was not jealous of her, but she did give me some cause for concern.

The truth was, there were four partners in our marriage. Stephen and me, motor neurone disease, and physics. If you took out motor neurone disease, you are still left with physics.

As Stephen's fame began to take off in a big way, and because he was so immersed in physics, it was becoming more and more difficult to communicate with him.

In the early days of our marriage, Stephen could walk around Cambridge on my arm - a stick on one hand, leaning on me with the other. I carried a baby on one arm and Stephen on the other.

we were living and working in harmony, supporting each other, participating in each other's interests, despite the disparity of our chosen subjects, despite attempts to divide us and despite the inevitable difficulties of Stephen's worsening disability. We were very happy. We both gained confidence and courage from the strength of our mutual resolve and from our trust in each other.

The City Surveyor had never before heard of disabled people wanting to cross the city as far as Marks & Spencer to buy their own underwear, so he failed to see the need for such an expedition – as if disabled people and their families had no right to venture that far. Injustice spurred us into action. Why should Stephen have to suffer restraints on his lifestyle other than those inflicted by an unkind Nature?

He had little respect for the intelligence of other people at the best of times. Now, at the worst of times, he was inclined to regard them all as morons. His fears were warranted, but not altogether for the reasons one might have supposed.

and for Stephen, who carried all his theories in his head, fine detail was a hindrance to clarity of thought.

I couldn't go off and leave Stephen. Coals of fire would have been heaped on my head if I had.

Stephen's the great survivor, isn't he? He just goes on and on.

I don't think of my life as having two marriages; I think of it as a continuum.

I loved Stephen so much that nothing could deter me from wanting to marry him.

Although a linguist, I was always interested in, and fascinated by, Stephen's explanations of his work and proud of his discoveries and achievements.

In a sense, I am achieving what I set out to do - to devote myself to Stephen, to give him the chance of fulfilling his genius. But what have I become in the process? Who am I? What is there left of me? I am beginning to doubt my own identity.

That the Hawkings were eccentric, even odd, was well known. That they were aloof, convinced of their own intellectual superiority over the rest of the human race, was also widely recognized in St. Albans, where they were regarded with a suspicion and awe.

The tension between Stephen's atheistic stance and my faith always existed, but neither of us tried to convert the other. I am not evangelical.

I felt it was terribly important, for Stephen and the children, to keep the family together.

I had scarcely met Stephen, and then one Saturday I met some old friends for coffee, and they were saying, 'Gosh it's terrible about Stephen, isn't it?' They told me that he had been in St. Bartholomew's Hospital in London having horrible tests and then had been diagnosed with an atypical form of a rare disease - motor neurone disease.

After the success of Stephen's book, a whole new crowd of people became very interested in him, and the family was just pushed into a corner.

Gardening is one of my enduring, favourite, and most rewarding pastimes.

Being Stephen's carer was such a struggle, and it's a lonely job looking after a disabled person. Thinking back, I honestly wonder how I got through it.