A Quote by Sarah Shahi

I always had that adolescent notion that I had to get out of Texas. But I'm really glad I grew up there. It's where I learned to look people in the eye, to be straightforward and polite.
I grew up as a very sarcastic person. I was always the class clown, and to date girls, I had to be really funny. I was really skinny growing up. I was so thin, I had to run around in the shower to get wet. That kind of thin. So I always had to rely on humor and sarcasm.
Some people are born with very little; some are fortunate enough to have it all. When I grew up, we didn't have much. I had to hustle to get what I wanted... but I had that hunger for more. I didn't always make the right choices, but I learned from my mistakes.
I grew up in a very polite family, and I suppose my parents were both very polite, and from the time I was a young boy, I suspected that there were passions seething underneath and not being mentioned, and that was something that came to preoccupy me. Somehow I had some drive to write down what people might really be thinking.
I did grow up in a household where the narrative was about public service and how are you going to effect change and help people. I'm so glad I grew up around that narrative, but I never had the calling to go out and shake hands and try to get elected.
I had always been a really peculiar child. My mom would tell you I grew up roughing it with the boys and playing with action figures and toy cars and stuff, but I also had an Easy Bake Oven... I find it amazing that in a really weird way, people are mad that they can't figure out my gender.
When I grew up in the Bronx, we always had everyone telling us, 'Watch out for the system, watch out for child welfare, watch out, they'll get you,' and I grew up with this feeling of, 'Society is over there and they're dangerous and not safe.'
Being away from home gave me the chance to look at myself with a jaundiced eye. I learned not to be ashamed of a real hunger for knowledge, something I had always tried to hide, and I came home glad to start in here again with a love for Europe that I am afraid will never leave me.
As a child, he had hardened his heart and learned to take their punches. He had learned to spit back and take down anyone who cast a jaundiced eye or who made a comment about either him, his mother, or his sister. He’d told himself that he didn’t need anyone’s love or caring. And so he had learned to live like a feral animal, always ready to strike out when someone tried to touch him.
My family trained me to be polite to people I had just met, and that included strangers. You speak when you're spoken to. You look people in the eye when they address you and when you address them back.
Anyone who grew up in the crack era - you know, I grew up in that era - knew that there were also people out - and there are still guys to this day that are out there, you know, obviously drug dealing - but those were the guys who had access and had money. And some of those guys felt responsible to create opportunity for other people and were also aware of the dangers of their work and often aren't really the ones that are encouraging kids to get into drug dealing.
For the ones who had a notion, a notion deep inside That it ain't no sin to be glad you're alive
[I] had very high hopes for Israel and it's lived up to and surpassed what I had in mind... I've had such an eye-opening experience - a really nice glimpse into the culture and lives of Israelis and the Jewish people.
I grew up in Texas, and people love their American-made muscle cars there. I grew up around people who loved cars and took care of cars and my dad's a big car nut, so I learned a little bit about cars - how to love them, most importantly. I think that from the time I could remember, I've always envisioned myself in a vintage muscle car.
I left the clinic in a daze that had nothing to do with my head injury. Clear up in a week or so? How could Dr. Olendzki speak so lightly about this? I was going to look like a mutant for Christmas and most of the ski trip. I had a black eye. A freaking black eye. And my mother had given it to me.
I had grown up. I had learned that being a woman was knowing when to stand firm and when to compromise. I had learned to laugh and weep; I had learned that I was weak as well as strong. I had learned to love. I was no longer a rigid, upright tree that would not flex and bow, even though the gale threatened to snap it in two; I was the willow that bends and shivers and sways, and yet remains strong.
My eye? It's a genetic thing. My dad had it, and now I have it. You know, I just found out that it may be correctable a little bit, because it does impair my vision. When I look up, I lose sight in this eye. I think, maybe for other people, it informs the way they see me.
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