A Quote by Robert Rauschenberg
Oracle was I had started it I guess two and a half years ago, maybe even longer than that, closer to three.
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All indications are that three and a half billion years ago, Mars looked like Earth. It had lakes. It had rivers. It had river deltas. It had snow-capped peaks and puffy clouds and blue sky. Three and a half billion years ago, it was a happening place. The same time on Earth, that's when life started. So did life start on Mars?
It felt like 10 years, but I was actually in treatment for three-and-a-half years. I finally finished in April. Two years ago, I had a bone marrow transplant from my brother, which saved my life, so I feel really grateful.
When I had my daughter, Louisanna, two and a half years ago, I started recording every funny or sweet thing she said or did on my phone.
I've been rapping and writing since junior high school, just having fun with it as a hobby. Then I got signed to a label Poe Boy Entertainment four years ago, I started taking it serious about a year and a half, two years ago.
There's nothing worse than the guy who at the party goes, 'Oh, I had that idea two years ago.' Well, then, why didn't you do something two years ago?
I became a real free market fanatic. I'm probably less so now than even two or three years ago.
The whole - it's the economy's bad. It's bad for everybody. I have my own comedy club. I opened it three years ago in a horrible economy. I created jobs. And we just started breaking even after a year and a half, barely. For that entire time, I have had to pay the difference of what we owe in rent and taxes and everything out of my own pocket.
I've been through a lot, both personally and professionally, and the album that I started to record two and a half years ago is a different album from the one that exists today. I even changed the album title. First it was 'All I Want is Everything,' and now it's 'Jumping Trains.'
Three and a half million years ago our ancestors - yours and mine - left these traces [indicates footprints]. We stood up and parted ways from them. Once we were standing on two feet, our eyes were no longer fixated on the ground. Now, we were free to look up and wonder.
When we launched our [ Vogue] site around five years ago, I had already started this process on paper. We are now building an enormous portfolio of photos, we've uploaded two million photos and we have three people that review them.
My boyfriend and I are not good at fighting. We're better than we were when we started dating - two breakups and three years ago - but it's never come naturally to either of us. I have often wished we fought like I imagine Pink and Carey Hart fight.
In Britain, journalists often view comparisons with our society going back two, three, or seven centuries as more relevant than comparisons going back two, three, or seven decades. Drunkenness centuries ago is more illuminating than comparative sobriety 30 years ago. The distant past, selectively mined for evidence that justifies our current conduct, becomes more important than living memory.
I started to write a new editor not too long ago and had it about half done after two days.
Thirty years ago I was diagnosed with motor neurone disease, and given two and a half years to live. I have always wondered how they could be so precise about the half.
Two or three years ago, every game I want to score. And after I score a goal I have a spark and I'm so happy I want more. Now I'mkind of different. I'm not saying I lost my spark - I still have it - but I don't chase the goal as much as I used to. I'm playing for the team andI still know I can score, but it's different than two or three years back.Look at great teams like Detroit a couple of years ago; they winthe Stanley Cup and guys only score 25 goals, nobody has a really big season. You have to play defense, that's how you win.
Stories are a kind of thing, too. Stories and objects share something, a patina. I thought I had this clear, two years ago before I started, but I am no longer sure how this works. Perhaps a patina is a process of rubbing back so that the essential is revealed, the way that a striated stone tumbled in a river feels irreducible, the way that this netsuke of a fox has become little more than a memory of a nose and a tail. But it also seems additive, in the way that a piece of oak furniture gains over years and years of polishing, and the way the leaves of my medlar shine.
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