A Quote by Jason Clarke

My father was a sheep shearer, so I grew up in a caravan; we'd go around from shearing shed to shearing shed. My mother always wanted us to be educated, so I went to a school.
In levying taxes and in shearing sheep it is well to stop when you get down to the skin.
In levying taxes and in shearing sheep, it is well to stop when you get down to the skin.
And the simple people are trash. A herd of sheep that are good for shearing, but sometimes it's more profitable to slaughter them.
After my parents' divorce in the early seventies, I grew up with my mother, who wasn't super educated herself. But there were a lot of kids from the subcontinent in the neighbourhood, many of whom were academic achievers. So my sister and I grew up around them, and both of us did well in school.
In my childhood there was every year at my old home, Roxborough, or, as it is called in Irish, Cregroostha, a great sheep-shearing that lasted many days. On the last evening there was always a dance for the shearers and their helpers, and two pipers used to sit on chairs placed on a corn-bin to make music for the dance.
Today, most women are surrounded by ingenious gadgets. They don't grow the peas or raise the chicken that they serve for dinner; instead they hunt and gather in the grocery store. They go through catalogs or department stores to buy clothes instead of shearing sheep, carding wool, and weaving cloth for skirts and coats and blankets.
Blaire, This teardrop represents many things. The tears I know you’ve shed over holding your mother’s piece of satin. The tears you’ve shed over each loss you’ve experienced. But it also represents the tears we’ve both shed as we’ve felt the little life inside you begin to move. The tears I’ve shed over the fact I’ve been given someone like you to love. I never imagined anyone like you Blaire. But every time I think about forever with you I’m humbled that you chose me. This is your something blue. I love you, Rush
I used to try to pick locks because I grew up on my grandparents' farm and I started my own little spy club. I would go around the farm and try to break into the shed and try spying on my grandpa. It was ridiculous.
I used to try to pick locks because I grew up on my grandparents farm and I started my own little spy club. I would go around the farm and try to break into the shed and try spying on my grandpa. It was ridiculous.
Luckily for you," he said, "you shed hairpins the way Hansel and Gretel shed crumbs. I followed your trail." He pressed a half dozen hairpins into the palm of my left hand. "Now let us return to light, safety, and society.
I grew up on a ranch with my father, so he educated us really early on about guns. We used to go target shooting all the time.
We all shed salty tears and shed red blood. All is one.
It must happen to us all…We pack up what we’ve learned so far and leave the familiar behind. No fun, that shearing separation, but somewhere within, we must dimly know that saying goodbye to safety brings the only security we’ll ever know.
If one shed tears, they must be shed on one's pillow.
The father is the sun, the mother is the moon and the light they mutually shed on their kids makes them bright stars against a very dark night.
I loved when my dad was home. He liked to sit in the living room and watch boxing and baseball on TV. Or he'd be tinkering around or listening to records by his musician buddies - George Shearing, Oscar Peterson and the Jackie Gleason Orchestra.
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