Don't ever take a shower with a woman, because you'll probably end up proposing to her.
I'm a big believer in to-do lists. I think of five things in the shower. I set goals and get my work done, but I have to plan for fun things, too. I'm always thinking about what will make my family happier. So I set up playdates and trips.
I get out of bed, brush my teeth, wash my face, put on moisturiser, put on clothes, and leave. Four minutes. I like to shower at night so I can roll out of bed.
On the road, almost every day I'll do 100 squats, or sometimes I might do 50 squats and a bunch of leg lifts. I'll split them up right before I get in the shower and before I go to bed, or sometimes I'll do all 100 at once. Whatever I do, I try to get those in.
I never really sang for anyone, apart from in the shower or with my best friend. I was shy. I didn't want to take voice lessons. I knew I could sing, but I just didn't tell anyone.
My party trick is that I can get ready to go to the party really quickly. I'm actually a woman that can have a shower, dry and style her hair, do her make-up and get dressed in under an hour.
I at once commenced the ascent through a shower of arrows.
My little girl, Anja, is really excited. We had a baby shower yesterday and she took the presents from everyone for me and was telling them, 'No, it's my baby.'
I'd like very much to make a confident picture. I would like to be as good as nature, which, with a shower, produces flowers and grass to cover the destruction. But we are surrounded by human fragmentation, by pessimism, and it is difficult to talk of other things.
Other people sing in the shower, but I don't.
My mother persuaded me not to pluck my eyebrows when I was a teenager - right now I'm so grateful I never did! She also taught me to pour 2 kg. of salt in my bath whenever I feel swollen and tired - and to end it with a cold shower. It does wonders.
My favorite way to blow off steam is to sing obnoxiously loud in the shower.
Ninety-eight percent of the singing I did was private singing - it was in the shower, at the dishwasher, driving my car, singing with the radio, whatever. I can't do any of that now. I wish I could. I don't miss performing, particularly, but I miss singing.
For me, my guilty pleasure is that if I don't want to do anything one day, I won't. I'll just sit around, not shower, hardly even eat, and just watch TV.
Each and every time I went in for IVF treatments, I knew there was a bipartisan group of Congresswomen praying for me, and I was honored that the same group was there at my baby shower.
If we want to talk about Gross Natural Product, we have to talk about the King of Bhutan's index of Gross National Happiness, too. Certainly I have found, as many travellers before me, that people in the poorest places are often the readiest to shower me, from an affluent country, with hospitality and kindness.
I don't need to sing in front of thousands, as I can sing in the shower.
The alarm rings 4:45, again at 5, but I wake up 4:30 naturally. Shower, shave, orange juice, perk my own coffee, hear the news, and the CBS car arrives 5:30.
I did have a falsetto, but I only used it when I was joking around with friends or to annoy my girlfriends, or in the shower, because no one else was around. Or in college. I'd go to karaoke bars and sing Tina Turner songs in the original key.
'Write' is almost the wrong verb for what I do. I think 'compose' is more accurate because you're trying to make the sounds in your mind and in your voice. So I compose while I'm driving or in the shower.
Bing Crosby sings like all people think they sing in the shower.
In junior high P.E., I was way too shy to take a shower in front of the other kids. It was a horribly awkward time - body hair, odors... So I'd go from my sweaty shirt back into my regular clothes and have to continue the day.
I have to have a guitar sitting around. I sing in the shower. I sing around the house. The music comes secondary. The lyrics come first.
This is so dumb - once time I spray-tanned before a race, and I didn't shower, and I sweated the whole thing off on my car. It was so bad, I told a fan I would never do it again.
In my head, I have the most sensational singing voice. I perform concerts to thousands in the shower. The reality is I can hold a tune. The dream is a West End musical one day - no, really!
I really enjoyed staying at an encampment at the top of a hill in the Samburu Reserve in Kenya. You reach it on a small plane; there is no electricity, no city noises and you sleep and shower under the Milky Way, with moths fluttering around a kerosene lamp, knowing that there are elephants and lions roaming free in the valley.
Children are amazingly adaptable. What would be grotesquely abnormal became my normality in the prisoner of war camps. It became routine for me to line up three times a day to eat lousy food in a noisy mess hall. It became normal for me to go with my father to bathe in a mass shower.
In prison, you have to forget about the world on the outside. You have no Internet, no communications, and you're cut off from the whole world. Everything is given to you. You have shelter; you have food, a shower, water. You don't need to spend a dime. You don't have to worry about bills.
Our cellar home had a kitchen and a combination bedroom and half bath, which meant we had a sink next to the bed. We had no refrigerator, no shower or tub, and no privacy. My parents shared the bedroom with my sister and me.
