My first part-time job gave me the smell of earning money when I worked in a village chemist aged 14. I loved helping the pharmacist with prescriptions and on the shop floor, with its glamorous make-up aisle.
I spend five times more money at a chemist shop than I would at a fashion boutique. Clothes shopping is optional for me; shopping at a chemist store is a must.
I'd grown up with no money and, when money had come into my life, I hadn't cared about chasing it. Earning it was very exciting, but only because it gave me the chance to be generous with my mates and show them how much I loved them.
My job is making money, helping other people make money. I am spending money, trying to make sure more people get rich, because you cannot spend a lot of money, right? So my job is spending money, helping others. This is a headache.
Eventually I gave up teaching at the St. Paul Gallery because of disagreements with the philosophy of that museum, and I got a job at the University of Minnesota, which was very fortunate because it was a part-time job and that gave us a great deal of time in our studio to work together and to make the pots we wanted to make.
Hey, Ethan." "Yeah?" "Remember the Twinkie on the bus? The one I gave you in second grade, the day we met?" "The one you found on the floor and gave me without telling me? Nice." He grinned and shot the ball. "It never really fell on the floor. I made that part up.
Spending of the best part of one's life earning money in order to enjoy questionable liberty during the least valuable part of it, reminds me of the Englishman who went to India to make a fortune first, in order that he might return to England and live the life of a poet. He should have gone up garret at once.
I don't want to sound like Catherine Cookson but I've worked since I was eight, with a paper round and in a fruit and veg shop. Taking a pay cut won't demotivate me, not at all. It's not about money in the first place. It's about the job.
I wanted to be an actor ever since I got on stage for the first time, aged 13. Before that, I thought I might follow in the medical footsteps of my parents: my father was a doctor, my mother a pharmacist.
Also I'm a part of the people that I've worked with in baseball that have been so great to me, Mr. Earl Mann of Atlanta, who gave me my first baseball broadcasting job.
My son tried to work in films and he ultimately gave it up, he finally couldn't make a living, he couldn't support himself. He worked all the time and he didn't make enough money to have a house, have an apartment.
I didn't grow up with a lot of money, so my mom didn't have random money to buy me a car, and I didn't have money to have a car unless I worked, so I didn't get a car until I got my first job at 18.
I've known what it's like to survive without a steady job. Growing up in the Philippines, I watched my parents juggle part-time jobs at the corner shop and as tailors, barely able to make ends meet for my three brothers and me.
My parents were my first bosses - they gave me my moral compass, goals, and first recognition. My dad worked 25 years for Rolls Royce in England. He taught me the value of working someplace where you can make a difference - not chasing money but doing work that you found purposeful.
I went to all the shops in the village looking for work. I didn't have any qualifications. I ended up working in a grocery shop for about a year and then went to a confectioner, where I earned three pounds 10 shillings. I gave the money to my mother and father, but I also managed to save five shillings a week.
As a little boy, my first job was delivering newspapers, and then I had a variety of different jobs. I worked in a butcher shop. I worked in a supermarket. I worked in construction. I dug ditches on the Long Island Expressway in 1954, 1955, 1956.
It's not sufficient in the internet age to communicate through the media; you have to be able to do it on the ground, door by door, coffee shop by coffee shop, shop floor by shop floor. You really have to do that as well.