A Quote by Angus Deaton

When I was a boy living in Edinburgh in Scotland, especially in December, when the hours of daylight were few, and it was cold, and often wet, I used to dream of escaping to a tropical magic kingdom.
Sitting in cold wet britches for an hour was no fun even in a magic kingdom.
Cats were often familiars to workers of magic because to anyone used to wrestling with self-willed, wayward, devious magic--which was what all magic was--it was rather soothing to have all the same qualities wrapped up in a small, furry, generally attractive bundle that...might, if it were in a good mood, sit on your knee and purr. Magic never sat on anybody's knee and purred.
I was an adult and I was in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. I was performing in this cave - they used to bury the plague victims in these caves underneath the streets of Edinburgh, when I got this weird cold sensation up my spine, it gave me this really weird feeling, and then I looked up and there was this white, sudden white shape, that just zapped from me and went straight to the light that was at the back of the room, and I just stopped cold and said to the audience, "Did you guys see that?" No one saw it.
The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house. All that cold, cold, wet day.
Physically, you never get used to the cold. It's cold! If it's cold, it's cold! And you go out there, and your body feels it, but I think mentally, living in it, it's not such a shock to you.
Put someone on a horse looking cold and wet, and they don't have to act. They just are cold and wet.
I hate being cold and I hate being wet and around 80% percent of this film I was cold and another 60% I was cold and wet, so it wasn't the best shoot for me.
In Edinburgh, there was a lovely little Episcopalian Church of Scotland church on my way to the theater, so I used to pop in there and soak up the atmosphere.
You know, when I was a young boy I used to play baseball in my back yard or in the street with my brothers or the neighborhood kids. We used broken bats and plastic golf balls and played for hours and hours.
This is about doing something difficult and not stopping when it becomes not just difficult, but cold and difficult...or cold and wet and difficult...or cold and wet and dark and difficult.
I'm from Scotland, one of four daughters, and we grew up moving every few years between Scotland, Portugal, Colombia and Scotland again.
My own experience of growing up as a Roman Catholic in Scotland has led me to fear independence in Scotland. The possibility of Scotland being a kind of Stormont is a real one. I wrote a book recently about Neil Lennon's year of living dangerously and in the course of it I had to revisit some of my own experiences. Of course, most Scottish people are not swivel-eyed, loyalist sectarians but there are a large number of them. A large six-figure number, and if I were living in Scotland as a Roman Catholic I would be worried about that.
I don't feel sorry for myself, because I'm living my dream. Even when I was a little boy I used to stand in the playground and pretend I was on 'Opportunity Knocks.'
Meditation is nothing but coming to terms with your inner emptiness: recognizing it, not escaping; living through it, not escaping; being through it, not escaping. Then suddenly the emptiness becomes the fullness of life.
January cold and desolate; February dripping wet; March wind ranges; April changes; Birds sing in tune To flowers of May, And sunny June Brings longest day; In scorched July The storm-clouds fly, Lightning-torn; August bears corn, September fruit; In rough October Earth must disrobe her; Stars fall and shoot In keen November; And night is long And cold is strong In bleak December.
When I first came to Hollywood, I used to dream of doing films and escaping television.
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