A Quote by Mick Foley

My mother wanted me to be a writer, which I have ended up taking a long road round to. — © Mick Foley
My mother wanted me to be a writer, which I have ended up taking a long road round to.
I hated the idea that I would be like my father. Which is one of the reasons I decided I didn't want to be a writer and wanted to be an actor instead. I wanted to go in a total different direction. But, of course, I ended up being a writer anyway.
I wanted to be a writer and I ended up being a writer.
My mum enrolled me in this free dance class because I had so much energy in the night-time, and she just wanted me to go to sleep. I ended up falling in love with dancing, singing, acting, the whole entertainment world. Then, my mum ended up taking on an extra job so she could fund me to take singing lessons or go to drama classes.
My mom wasn't expecting me to end up how I ended up. When she wanted to have kids, she wanted to have two girls, and then she got my brother and me. Which is a disappointment to anybody. You can't help it.
My mother wanted me to join the Indian army, as the army was seen as a decent and respectable career to have. I shocked my mother by telling her that I wanted to be a writer.
Well, I came down to LA initially to join The Groundlings, which is an improv comedy group. I didn't get in, of course, becaue I'm not a part of The Groundlings. I just assumed that I could walk in and take over. So they said: "Hit the road Jack." And I ended up getting an agent instead. They sent me out on a couple of leads and I ended up on a sitcom and Van Wilder thereafter and then pantsless with Sandra Bullock.
And I never started to plow in my life That some one did not stop in the road And take me away to a dance or picnic. I ended up with forty acres; I ended up with a broken fiddle— And a broken laugh, and a thousand memories, And not a single regret.
I always knew I wanted to be a performer, and my mother started taking me to dance classes when I was five. My mother is a teacher, my father works at an insurance company. When I said I wanted to be a performer, people went, "Yeah, right." You don't do that where I come from.
I remember taking a 4x4 up the Sani Pass in South Africa, which goes up into Lesotho. It's a dangerous hairpin trail on this treacherous road and I went up in winter. Half of the road stays in the shade. We turned the corner on this hairpin and just hit black ice.
I do live a very Hugh Beaumont existence. I'm up every morning, taking my kids to school and all that, which obviously does interest me. But then it's taking meetings with goofballs and auditioning for crap, and then I spend a lot of time on the road.
When you think that the road has ended, you must know that it is your ability to go beyond has ended, not the road!
I had it in my head when I was in college that I wanted to be a writer, but it took me a long time to commit to being a writer. Up until then, I had worked one dead-end job after another while writing on the side.
My mother wanted to be an actress. She wanted to follow her dreams and she never really got a chance to do that. I feel like I'm following her dream in a way. She's proud of me for doing what I wanted to do, but at the same time, I'm kind of taking up where she left off.
I just wanted to get the hell out of my town. I wanted to leave with reckless abandon. I didn't care where I ended up, as long as I saw as much as humanly possible.
I wanted to be a writer, to write these stories that would make people see the world in a different way. But I ended up going to business school because I thought I could ultimately get to where I wanted to go faster that way.
White in the moon the long road lies, The moon stands blank above; White in the moon the long road lies That leads me from my love. Still hangs the hedge without a gust, Still, still the shadows stay: My feet upon the moonlit dust Pursue the ceaseless way. The world is round, so travellers tell, And straight through reach the track, Trudge on, trudge on, 'twill all be well, The way will guide one back. But ere the circle homeward hies Far, far must it remove: White in the moon the long road lies That leads me from my love.
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