A Quote by Tim Lincecum

My father-he pretty much taught me everything I know. He still pushes me to be the best I can. — © Tim Lincecum
My father-he pretty much taught me everything I know. He still pushes me to be the best I can.
My father probably taught me everything I know, aside from dialogue, which I think I get from my mom a lot more. He certainly didn't teach me everything he knew, but you know he has got this book out called "The Spooky Art," which is essentially an advanced book on writing and it's not... You know it's not ABC, but it's for people who feel that bug and know that they're writers and are willing to put in that time alone. Pretty much the vast majority of what he taught me you can find in that book.
I think losing my father was OK in the sense that it's cool for me not to have a father; it's normal. I'm supposed to bury my father. But what I didn't realize was that my father was my best friend, and that still gets me... that still irritates me a lot.
I'm still growing, still learning. I'm still open and vulnerable enough to know there's much more to be taught to me and learned by me. I hope I don't reach my pinnacle on this earth where I think I know it all.
Everything I had ever learned about air fighting taught me that the man who is aggressive, who pushes a fight, is the pilot who is successful in combat and who has the best opportunity for surviving battle and coming home.
Father's Day each year makes me grateful for what my father did for me. This has little to do with our relationship, and much to do with what he taught me.
I am in agreement with everything my father taught me and nothing my mother taught me.
I say to my father quite frequently that my success professionally is very much due to the guidance he gave me and to watching him in the business world. He really taught me to fight for what is right. He taught me to persevere and never give up.
I remember looking at my daughter for the first time and wondering if that's the way my father looked at me. I could cry, because she's everything to me. I feel so blessed to be taught so much by her.
I grew up not having a father. Golf is the father I never had. It taught me honesty and respect and discipline and it taught me to control my temperament.
If I hadn't met Scorsese, I would never have become a filmmaker. He has taught me everything I know about editing and has given me the best job in the world.
My dad has pretty much taught me, he's built this thing with me, he trains with me, practices with me, goes to the gym with me, we battle each other at the go-kart track. We're so competitive with each other, and I feel like we both make each other better because we're so hard on each other, just trying to be the best we can.
The gods gave me a father who ruled over me and rid me of any trace of arrogance and showed me that one can live in a palace without bodyguards, extravagant attire, chandeliers, statues, and other luxuries. He taught me that it is possible to live instead pretty much in the manner of a private citizen without losing any of the dignity and authority a ruler must possess to discharge his imperial duties effectively.
My father taught me about having principles and how to treat people with respect. My aunt also taught me how to keep a perspective on everything that happens to you. So you learn to be humble and not take your success for granted.
A great teacher once taught me that you've got to have faith that everything happens for the best. I have had many setbacks in my career and every setback has led me that much further into my truth.
And you still love Marc?" "More than I can even explain. He's my rock—strong and steady, and ready for anything. He knows what I need before I know it, and he pushes me to work harder, and look deeper, and be better. He challenges me, and infuriates me, and he lights me on fire, deep in my soul. And he has never, ever let me down. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing keeping my heart beating. I love him so much that it feels like I'm dying a little bit every day that he won't smile at me. Or touch me.
It was as if my father had given me, by way of temperament, an impossibly wild, dark, and unbroken horse. It was a horse without a name, and a horse with no experience of a bit between its teeth. My mother taught me to gentle it; gave me the discipline and love to break it; and- as Alexander had known so intuitively with Bucephalus- she understood, and taught me, that the beast was best handled by turning it toward the sun.
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