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.
The economic dimension is very clear. I was at a dinner party, a mother got up, who's a very distinguished scientist, and said she had to get home and help her daughter with her homework. The two waiters, their faces changed. They were working their second jobs, they couldn't get home to help their kids with homework.
Home, nowadays, is a place where part of the family waits till the rest of the family brings the car back.
To be able to walk out the door when you come home from a job and wander into the garden to do a bit of watering gives you time to be creative in your mind.
I would come home and re-create every movie. Our backyard became a battleship, a war zone, a western town.
Don't kid yourself. President Obama's decision to withdraw 33,000 troops from Afghanistan before he stands for reelection is not driven by the United States' 'position of strength' in the war zone as much as it is by grim economic and political realities at home.
I work out of my home studio that I built in this warehouse in Philadelphia. I've kind of curated it for my needs and my sound.
Home, more than anything, means warmth and bed.
To have or not to have kids, when to have them, and whether we working women can 'have it all' has been debated, discussed, and examined since the washing machine and the TV dinner began to free up many mothers to even consider leaving the home as a viable option.
I am excited about focusing full-time on talking about my job-creation agenda and building a new economy for Washington state. We have a great chance to seize our own destiny, build our own industries, and create our own technological revolutions right here at home.
My first serious girlfriend, when I was 16, was Mormon. I went to her house for 'family home evening,' and I was like, 'Why aren't you people ignoring each other and watching television?'
When you go to the mountains, you really have to accept that there is always a risk. It's more dangerous than sitting at home watching TV. It's really sad.
Honestly, I'd love to say I live this amazing Hollywood lifestyle, but actually, I'm at home with my same friends and cooking. I crochet, I do watercolor. I think what surprised me the most is that that isn't the lifestyle everyone necessarily lives.
I was shocked when I moved to Sydney how very few indigenous people I came across. And so when I go to places like Maroubra or Redfern or Waterloo or Erskineville, I feel more at home because of the people I'm around - anywhere I can see a face that reflects someone that looks like my family, I feel much more at home.
When I was younger, I'd always forget stuff. I think there was probably 4-5 times where we'd drive 30 minutes to a town for the baseball tournament, and all of a sudden, I'd get to the field and look in my bag, and I didn't have my cleats. So my dad had to race all the way home to get my cleats and get back before the game started so I could play.
I listen to the phone-ins on the way home and I know how the fans feel.
Once you're halfway home, you know that you can probably get the rest of the way there.
We're always ready for a pick-up game. I walk through the park on the way home every day and just think to myself, 'I'll take on any of these kids.'
I had bad days on the field. But I didn't take them home with me. I left them in a bar along the way home.
Most days, I have a slice of toast, then lie in a hot bath for an hour to get up a sweat. I have a sauna at the racecourse and then go and ride. On the way home, I might stop at a service station and have a bar of chocolate and a Diet Coke. And that's it, basically.
