A Quote by Billy Dee Williams

My mother's side of the family, they're from Montserrat in the Leeward Islands. — © Billy Dee Williams
My mother's side of the family, they're from Montserrat in the Leeward Islands.
I was born in Cincinnati, Ohio. My family was not nationally known as being a literary family, though my mother and my mother's side of the family in general were interested in literature.
My family is Abenaki Indian on my mother's side. My father's side of the family is Slovak, and we also have some English ancestry.
There are many wrestlers in my mother's family. So I guess I've inherited my love for wrestling from my mother's side of the family.
For a family to have five kids and to have emigrated from the West Indies, my father from Jamaica and my mother from Montserrat - it's not easy to provide for five kids let alone put three kids in AAA hockey, one being a goalie, and put two daughters through university.
My whole family, my father's side, there was a great deal of depression, and my mother's side as well.
I get my voice from my mother's side of the family. My mother and my grandmother both had strong voices.
My mother - the Irish side of the family - was very musical. My mother was a singer; there was music around the house all the time.
My mother's side is Italian; my father's side is Jewish. We're the kind of family where every Sunday night we have dinner with all 19 of my cousins.
My mother's side of the family was in the production side of theatre. My grandfather, Jose Vega, was a general manager for Neil Simon shows on Broadway.
I remember the reason why did I start my golf. We had a four day game I was playing for Trinidad against the Leeward Islands. They had in their ranks Winston Benjamin, Curtly Ambrose and Kenneth Benjamin. To add to it, the track was a green top. The four day game lasted two days, so I had two days to play golf.
My family on my mother's side is Irish.
I am much closer to the Butler side of the family, which is on mother's side, from where I get my middle name. My parents divorced when I was seven, and I remember as a kid always being fascinated by my full name.
I inherited depression from my mother's side of the family.
Dreams were the worst. Of course I dreamed of food and love, but they were pleasant rather than otherwise. But then I'd dream of things like slitting a baby's throat, mistaking it for a baby goat. I'd have nightmares of other islands stretching away from mine, infinities of islands, islands spawning islands, like frogs' eggs turning into polliwogs of islands, knowing that I had to live on each and every one, eventually, for ages, registering their flora, their fauna, their geography.
In the past members of my family on both my mother's and father's side have fought in the war, in the first and second World Wars. Unfortunately, they're dead and I wasn't able to speak to them, but that was in our family history too.
My love for traveling to islands amounts to a pathological condition known as nesomania, an obsession with islands. This craze seems reasonable to me, because islands are small self-contained worlds that can help us understand larger ones.
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