I was shaped by a pit environment and the Second World War. My playground was on the pit tip at Clay Cross and I grew up with that mining background. My father was a miner and my granddad was a miner, and I would say three out of ten on the street where I was born were working in the pits.
We were all miners in our family. My father was a miner. My mother is a miner. These are miner's hands, but we were all artists, I suppose, really. But I was the first one who had the urge to express myself on paper rather than at the coalface.
I come from a coal-mining, working-class background. My father was a coal miner.
I grew up in Manchester, and we were very poor. My father was a miner who joined the Navy during the war and developed a lung disease and had to have a lung removed.
He described how, as a boy of 14, his dad had been down the mining pit, his uncle had been down the pit, his brother had been down the pit, and of course he would go down the pit.
My grandfather, born in 1865, was a copper miner from the age of 10. The air down the mines was poisoned with arsenic, and working conditions were horrific. They only had candles for light, so they worked in a pitch-black environment.
Environment does shape you. My environment, in a pit family, in a pit village, with nine kids in total.
We were racing at circuits where there were no crash barriers in front of the pits, and fuel was lying about in churns in the pit lane. A car could easily crash into the pits at any time. It was ridiculous.
See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner," "A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?" "Because when he sings...even the birds stop to listen.
I was born in Owerri and grew up in the east of Nigeria, in Imo state. You could say I was a 'street boy': we grew up on the street, played on the street, did everything out on the street. It was a difficult life altogether, but that's how we grew up.
Writer is a miner; he works in the gloomy places like a miner to get the precious material.
I grew up in the mining village of Dudley in Northumberland. My father, who was also called Robson Green, worked down the pits.
He's a pit bull," Adam said. "I know some really nice pit bulls." "He's the kind of pit that makes the evening news. Gansey's trying to restrain him." "How noble.
[Donald Trump] puts a miner's hat on.The media, some in it, were concerned - or hoping - that Trump would have helmet hair when he took the helmet off. They were hoping that he had so much hair spray on, that the miner's helmet he was wearing would leave an indentation in his hair. That was actually a subject in some of the stories I read. So the MacGuffin... There's no media. There isn't any news.
When I was born, my father was a copper miner in Butte, Montana. It was a hard-core, blue-collar situation.
I came from a very, very small valley in the middle of South Wales. I grew up there with my father, who's a coal miner, and my mother worked in a normal factory.
My great-grandfather was a coal miner, who worked in Pennsylvania mines when carts were pulled by mules and mines were lit by candles. Mining was very dangerous work then.