I live in New York. I have an amazing apartment over there; I have this amazing life over there that's full of glamour. I get treated like a queen over there - and that's one of the reasons I love coming home. It's very grounding.
I was a terrible loser growing up. I took it far too seriously. There were water works if I lost. I would go home and break it down in angry detail: How did I lose? What could I do next time?
I once joked in a book that there are three things you can't do in life. You can't beat the phone company, you can't make a waiter see you until he is ready to see you, and you can't go home again. Since the spring of 1995, I have been quietly, even gamely, reassessing point number three.
I want to be the player who hits home runs, drives in runs.
Everything that I do in my life is geared towards my kids and their survival and giving them the best education that I can possibly give them and the best home that I can possibly give them.
Is it harder having kids and working? It definitely is, but the payoff is you get to go home to your kids, and it all balances out. And I know I'm a better mother when I'm engaged in something outside of the house.
Puszczykowo is an important place in my life. I feel like I am at home there.
I'm a first generation American. My mother is Italian and Russian and a lot of other things, and my father is Uruguayan. In fact, my mother's been married twice, and both men were Uruguayan. So I grew up in a very European/Latin American-influenced home.
In theory, I absolutely love to work from home, in all its warmth and comfort, but have reluctantly been forced to confess that it's a total failure.
The only instrument I can play is piano. Whenever I make songs at home, I play the piano and make them on the piano.
Indy, this is my home. I am a Colt. I'm here forever. You aren't getting rid of me.
My homies in Gadsden aren't as exposed as I am culturally, which is awesome - that's why I love going home. I'm in the kitchen with people who don't know anything but the simple life, what's important to them, and what's dope.
It's incredible what happens when you explain to kids what good food is - they get so excited! They go home and tell their parents... and they're excited to cook the recipes themselves in class.
When we were kids, I know when I saw 'Pinocchio' it had a huge impact. I was ten years old, and I went home, and I was drawing the characters.
I've always really just liked football, and I've always devoted a lot of time to it. When I was a kid, my friends would call me to go out with them, but I would stay home because I had practice the next day. I like going out, but you have to know when you can and when you can't.
Through music I either tame my demons or unleash them and allow them to be what they are. I don't want the music to be about provocation, I want the music to bring you to a place where you feel at home.
If you have a class of 35 children, and they're all smiling, and there's one little bastard, and he's just staring at you as if to say 'Show me', then he's the one you think about going home on the train.
Hmmmm... It's fun being in front of people, playing shows and all. But hotels? Being away from home? That's different.
I always feel that when I come to Edinburgh, in many ways I am coming home.
We need less theoretical debate and more practical application and acknowledgment of what Europe can and does do so that it is brought home to people in a relevant way.
Bach and Beethoven erected temples and churches on the heights. I only wanted to build dwellings for men in which they might feel happy and at home.
The aesthetic came along the way, I think - just through experimenting, and going on tour, and trying stuff out on stage, having fun with it, and not taking it too seriously. If I had a ballgown at home, I'd wear it onstage. If I found something in a charity shop, I'd wear it. That's where it grew from - just wanting to play dress-up.
I just don't take myself as seriously anymore. But as a result of that, I am taking myself more seriously. My ego has gone on holiday, and it can't get a flight back home.
You're in front of an audience and thinking off the top of your head - you're going to say things that offend people sometimes. Sometimes I'll be driving home, and I'll be like, 'Oh, crap, I shouldn't have said that.'
I love L.A. - don't get me wrong. But I miss everything about New York. I don't eat cheese, but I miss the smell of pizza in the city. I'm a really big fan of Latino food. I want to go back home and have some good arroz con pollo.
Am I feminist? I don't know. I'm not really sure what that is. I am all up for equality to a certain extent, although in the home, I do feel this is where the mother excels and the man needs to step back a bit. My family is from Nigeria, and this is our culture.
I use New York to talk about home, but the ideas in 'Colossus' could be transferred to other cities. The story about Central Park is really about the first day of spring in any park. The Coney Island chapter is really about beaches and summer and heat waves.
I grew up in Haifa and enjoyed the wonderful beaches and Mount Carmel that rolls into the Mediterranean Sea. From my early days at home, I remember a strong encouragement to study.
We were so poor that my mother would often leave me in a foster home until she could raise enough money to rent rooms for us.
The cool thing about writing is that there is really never a typical day. Sometimes I get a rhythm going and head off to work every morning and come home at night. Sometimes I'll write for two days straight and then be utterly blank for the next two.
My favorite days were when I had a cold and could stay home from school and draw all day long.
A lot of my writer friends live near me, and that makes people think we just hang around with one another in cafes, trading work and discussing 'Harper's' and what not. But I rarely see them. We're home working.
After my tour I had time to stay at home, be with my boyfriend and hang out with friends and that brought me down to earth and helped me write music from a more relaxed place.
I'm trying to enjoy my time at home and be around my kids.
I've been a very lucky guy. I played on championship teams. I played for Canada. I've won some awards and I'm very proud of those accomplishments. But I don't think there's anything greater than to come home and to be recognized at home. This is the pinnacle.
You know, veterans come home and they may not be bipolar, but after they've been through a war with PTSD or a head injury, their families have a handful when they come home.
