A Quote by Peter O'Toole

When my father would come home from the track after a good day, the whole room would light up; it was fairyland. But when he lost, it was black. In our house, it was always either a wake ... or a wedding.
On the morning of Thanksgiving, I would wake up to the home smelling of all good things, wafting upstairs to my room. I would set the table with the fancy silverware and china and hope that my parents and grandmother wouldn't have the annual Thanksgiving fight about Richard Nixon.
It got to the point where I would wake up at 6 A.M. and go on my phone and tweet something and have it be really good and get lots of retweets... and then I would wake up, because it was actually a dream; I would wake up with my hand holding nothing - an air phone.
My father was always playing this ethnic blues stuff around the house, and both my parents played. Then one day my father brought home Big Bill Broonzy, and there he was sitting in our living room playing, and blues was in my heart from the time I was 12 years old.
When I was younger, I would set up Grammy parties at my house where I would invite all of my friends over, and my whole family would sit in the living room glued to the TV. But I would just dream of someday going there, and I would watch the red carpet interviews over and over and study what was happening.
There are those who wake up each morning to conquer the day, and then there are those of us who wake up only because we have to. We live in the shadow of every neighborhood. We own little corner stores, live in run-down apartments that get too little light, and walk the same streets day after day. We spend our afternoons gazing lazily out of windows. Somnambulists, all of us. Someone else said it better: we wake to sleep and sleep to wake.
Growing up in Chicago, there was a very particular type of home that would display the black Jesus figure. It wasn't a radical home. You wouldn't find these in a Black Panther house. There's still a strong allegiance to Christianity.
On Christmas morning, before we could open our Christmas presents, we would go to this stranger's home and bring them presents. I remember helping clean the house up and putting up a tree. My father believed that you have a responsibility to look after everyone else.
When we were in the Munich house, sometimes [Adolf Hitler] would call the house line after one of their fights. They would talk and then Eva [Braun] would emerge from her room and behave normally.
When I was young, my father had a serious heart attack. He survived, but we lost our house and car. Under the Canadian Medicare system, though, we would have kept the house and car and would have just had to pay the inheritance tax.
I grew up in Inglewood, L.A., and South Central. I was always humbled by my situation. I would go on set and come home to my neighborhood and my block to my friends, and it would be a whole other story.
It’s been me all along,” said September slowly. “Me who gave up my shadow, me who went down into Fairyland-Below and Fairyland-Lower-Than-That to wake up the Prince. Me who shot the poor Minotaur. You oughtn’t just hand the whole business over the moment a Prince comes on the scene. I’ve got to see it through, don’t you see? The Hollow Queen is hollow because she’s missing the part of her that’s me. We’ve got to come together again. And he can’t do a thing about that.
As a kid, I would wake up, and there'd be a jazz funeral while I'm walking to school. And when I come home, you can find Rebirth band playing for a birthday party the same day.
The mystique and the romance of a big wedding are lost on me. I don't think that I could ever do something that extravagant. I am not much of a planner. I would probably make the phone call 20 minutes before the bus leaves for the chapel and ask if anyone is available to come. That's probably how my wedding is going to end up.
The first day working with my father was nerve wracking. I was terrified that I would embarrass him or he would embarrass me and it was probably one of the more tortuous days of my life. After the first day was under our belt, it was a great opportunity and I'll always look back on that experience fondly.
A good home must be made, not bought. In the end, it's not track lighting or a sun room that brings light into a kitchen.
It was true what Jim said, this wasn’t the end but the beginning. But the wars would end one day and Jim would come then, to the island they would share. One day surely the wars would end, and Jim would come home, if only to lie broken in MacMurrough’s arms, he would come to his island home. And MacMurrough would have it built for him, brick by brick, washed by the rain and the reckless sea. In the living stream they’d swim a season. For maybe it was true that no man is an island: but he believed that two very well might be.
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