A Quote by Jessica Long

At 18 months old, both of my lower legs were amputated so I could be fitted with prosthetic legs and learn to walk. — © Jessica Long
At 18 months old, both of my lower legs were amputated so I could be fitted with prosthetic legs and learn to walk.
"I was just like a pathological liar when I was a kid. I think I just wanted to one-up somebody. Somebody would be like, 'Oh, God, my legs hurt.' I'd be like, 'Your legs hurt? I'm getting mine amputated next week.' And that's actually how my mother found out. She came to school and somebody was like, 'God, that's such a shame about Jennifer's legs.' She made me purge. I had to spill out all of my lies. I was like, 'I said that Dad drove a barge, and we were millionaires, and you were pregnant, I had to get my legs amputated, and I spayed cats and dogs on the weekends.' Now I can't lie.
I broke both legs, which is why I ended up lying in bed for three months. It was six months before I could walk on one leg.
When we began filming, these people had legs, but as we were filming, they had been injured and they were brought to the hospital to have their legs amputated, and that's where we found them and asked them to come and be part of the film.
Sadly, I am not able to take part in the fieldwork myself so much anymore, as both of my legs were amputated following an airplane crash twelve years ago.
I spent the whole first year of my career just on my legs. If you have good legs under you, then you can punch. Anybody can stand and throw their hands and look like an idiot. If you actually want to learn how to punch, you have to work on being balanced on your legs and feeling your legs under you. Feel the ground.
I'm an athlete, yes, but I'm also a woman. I'm someone who kind of, in a way, lost touch with that part of myself after I lost my legs, because there are certain feminine traits you lose when you have prosthetic legs.
When I was 22, I had this horrible psoriasis outbreak. It was all over my legs, I couldn't walk because my legs were cracked and bleeding. Weird things like that can happen to your body.
Yes, but knee pants are so much more flattering. You can see my legs." You want people to see your legs?" I have very nice legs!" We both paused to admire them for a moment.
I wear my prosthetics legs every day, and when I train in the gym, I call them my Lamborghini, because both legs and sockets, which extend up to my hips to keep the legs on via a suction seal, cost about $305,815.
If the legs did provide such an advantage that some of the people are claiming they did, then there would be a lot more amputees using the exact same prosthetic legs I have, running the exact same times I have - and that's not the case.
I'm trying to get a lower center of gravity. I think, when I play at a lower level, it helps my overall game, just my explosiveness to the rim with the ball in my hands. When I play with a lower center of gravity, my legs are always in my shot instead of playing vertical out there where I don't get the same explosion or legs into my shot.
I was a super active kid, so I've always been aware of where my body is in space, and I think when I had my legs amputated, it makes you more aware of your body, and because I don't use my legs, I use more of my hands.
There is an incessant influx of novelty into the world, and yet we tolerate incredible dullness. When sometimes I am reminded that the mechanics and shopkeepers stay in their shops not only all the forenoon, but all the afternoon too, sitting with crossed legs, so many of them - as if the legs were made to sit upon, and not to stand or walk upon.
You know what Disneyland is known for? The Big Turkey Leg. People walk around with enormous deep-fried turkey legs. Like little kids, three-year-old kids eating these five-pound turkey legs.
A radical is a man with both feet firmly planted-in the air. A conservative is a man with two perfectly good legs, who, however, has never learned to walk forward. A reactionary is a somnambulist walking backwards. A liberal is a man who uses his legs and hands at the behest of his head.
For many of us the march from Selma to Montgomery was about protest and prayer. Legs are not lips and walking is not kneeling. And yet our legs uttered songs. Even without words, our march was worship. I felt my legs were praying.
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