When I was born, my parents and my mother's parents planted a dogwood tree in the side yard of the large white house in which we lived throughout my boyhood. This tree I learned quite early, was exactly my age - was, in a sense, me.
As a child, I lived through and survived the segregated South. I sat at the back of the bus at a time when America wasn't yet as great as it could be.
Although I'm not from London originally: I moved down here when I was 16, so it's played a part in my life. It's where I've lived for all that time.
I've lived in New York for 40 years. I came right after college.
I'm not a great hunter. But I have fired guns in the past, when I was growing up. But it was part of growing up where I lived. You go out hunting or target practice. They also taught you to respect guns.
Before I moved to the Isle of Wight, I lived in the suburbs of London and saw 'Fantasia,' and it scared the living daylights out of me. And I didn't go back to the movies until many years later to see a Lasse Hallstrom film.
I lived at admiralty house from 2002 until 2006 on advice from special branch on security grounds as defence secretary. The alternative of providing comprehensive security at my personal property would have entailed significant extra costs to the taxpayer.
We have lived for thousands of years together, Muslims and Christians; we are part of the same society.
While growing up, I lived in a traditional joint family in Mumbai's suburbs.
All through my twenties, I lived in very walkable cities - Philadelphia, San Francisco, and New York.
I might have lived long enough to learn all this in the long haul, but I would have been just another soul taking up time and space for a long spell before I learned.
I've lived so frugally for so long. I have to have that financial security or the world feels out of control for me.
I've lived in Kansas for more than thirty years, and for half of those, I was part of a ranching family, so I'm writing about things I know and love.
Jesus of Nazareth was the most famous human being who ever lived on this planet, and he had no infrastructure, and it's never been done. He had no government, no PR guy, no money, no structure. He had nothing, yet he became the most famous human being ever.
Most of the time, if I'm in a pickle, I'll call one of my brothers. They've usually got somewhat uplifting advice. One is six and a half years older and one is eight years older, so they've probably lived through whatever my problem is.
I grew up in a big sky country. Then I lived in Manhattan, where you can only see the sky between buildings, and then I went into a building where you couldn't see the sky at all. I didn't like that so much.
I lived and breathed dancing. It was my everything.
If you took away all pain, if everyone lived forever, everything would be bland, flat and boring; there would be no reason for art, music, newspapers, love because we would all be in a mono state of happiness.
This is going to sound crazy, but there was a period of time where on TLC they would show those surgeries - like a woman had a 90-pound tumor, or they separated these twins. And my sister and I - she lived in Ohio when I lived in California - would watch them together on the phone.
Sure, men like a challenge - but so do women. And nobody likes to be challenged all the time. I know plenty of long-standing happy couples who slept together right away, spent hours yakking on the phone, split checks down the middle, and lived together for years before the wedding.
I used to know Jennifer Love Hewitt. We lived in the same apartment building when I was about... jeez, I guess it was when I was doing 'Christmas Vacation', so I was about 13 or 14.
I wasn't brought up as a society girl to go to balls and be a debutante and marry the social set and money and go to parties. No one in my family lived like that. And I never wanted to live like that. I was brought up to believe in work. I always wanted a career. Always.
I've lived in 11 states, but I'm not an Army brat. My father couldn't hold a job, so every six months, we'd move.
When I grew up in America, I didn't see anyone who looked like me on TV. I feel overwhelmed with the things that people have said to me. When I meet Indian Americans who've lived here all their lives, it's overwhelming people holding me and crying. Someone said to me, 'Thank you for making us relevant.' It's such a big thing.
I just didn't want to get bored playing a character, and that's kind of the benefit of doing films; you've lived with a character for four or five months and that's it, and you walk away from that character and you feel like you told a story.
I feel like I've lived about three or four different lives.
I grew up homeless, you know, lived in and out of U-Haul trucks and, you know, apartment houses, friends.
I believe in the American Dream, because I've lived it.
I've always been salaried; I've never owned anything. I've done very well, lived very well.
I lived on the farm with my parents and grandparents. I had no playmates as a young child, and I was indulged. I helped my grandmother piece quilts, and we made pretty albums, an old-fashioned pastime. We cut poems and pictures out of magazines.
I'm very loyal to my south fans and the industry there. So, it's hard for me leave all the love, respect, and admiration and shift base here. I'm a Mumbai girl and have lived here for most of my life. At the same time, I've spent 10 years of my life in the South and feel like a south Indian at heart.
I lived in Paris when I was 20 and 21, and actually knew people that worked for the government there, that talked about terrorism in the country 20 years ago.
Having grown up in Iceland and Los Angeles, gone to school in Europe and America, and lived and worked in London and New York, my insatiable appetite for travel has informed many of my life decisions.
I lived in Dallas, and it's a big city, but you can jump on any freeway and drive in any direction for about 30 minutes and you are in the country - open space, wide open, very open, nothin' around.
As a child, I was tortured because my mother was a brilliant seamstress who made most of my clothes. I was despised by the children at school because I looked like I was going to an opening every day. We weren't wealthy at all; we lived in a row house in Philadelphia.
I grew up in Burbank - but not the Burbank of valet parking and TV studios. In the late 1950s, there was a small apartment complex on Elmwood Avenue that rented mostly to families on welfare. I lived there from age 3 to 11 and again from 14 to 18 with my mother, Shirley, and my younger sister, Toni.
