Quotes About Memories

Dallas McCarver is my angel. Not a day goes by where I don't think of him.

In 1930, when I was three and my sister was four, my father sent us to Miss Tracy's, a little 'dame's school' in Ipswich. I do remember playing with an abacus. He took us away after a term because he thought we weren't learning anything.

I don't know what they'll say when I die. I don't give a damn, but they'll probably cry.

My brother was a Chargers fan, so we watched Dan Fouts a lot growing up.

When I was maybe three years old, I was obsessed with this song 'Leader of the Band' by Dan Fogelberg. My mom took me to the mall and bought me a 45 of it. We would listen to that song all the time.

I never went to the school dance.

I can't remember the exact age, but I do remember being very young when I started to dance and listen to music.

My mom put me in dance classes when I was 5 years old.

I haven't danced since 1973; I'm too old.

One time, on Marine One, the president asked me my opinion. I had a flashback to being at the kitchen table with my dad. That dominant male figure set me up for being confident to express myself with precision and persuasion.

When I look back on my childhood, my fondest memories are those surrounding the dinner table.

I grew up with 'Life' magazine on the coffee table, Life cereal on the breakfast table, and the game of Life on the card table. People were just so happy to be alive, I guess.

My father was very sick around the time I was born. The doctors thought he wouldn't live. He did recover, but I don't remember him as very active. I do remember lots of schtick around the dinner table. Generally, he and my brothers and I were all laughing at the same thing my mother did not find funny, whatever that was.

My memories are of my dad taking me to football on Saturday mornings, and my mum taking me swimming. Those are the things I remember from my childhood, not sitting around the table debating capitalism and the profit squeeze.

As a child growing up, it's going to be what you're going to remember most. What you liked or not liked then is going to define who you are at the table!

I remember him watching me through the crack of a door singing with a hairbrush. I was in front of his mirror. I think he wanted me to sing. He would get me on the table and make me sing sometimes or play the piano. He was very encouraging on that front.

When the kids come home, we get back into the same routines: Sitting around the table, flipping grief to each other and laughing about it.

A lot of the songs in 'See Jane Sing!' are pulled straight from the kitchen table and my parents harmonizing together.

Every lesson I learned as a kid was at the dinner table. Being Greek, Sicilian and Ruthenian - we are an emotional bunch. It is where we laughed, cried and yelled - but most importantly, where we bonded and connected.

On my 14th birthday, my grandfather and my grandmother gave me the best birthday present ever: a drafting table that I have worked on ever since.

The first Mardi Gras I went to, I stayed at the Tulane AE Pi house on Broadway. Slept on a pool table one night, slept under it the next.

I was raised before the advent of DVD players in cars and iPads at the dinner table.

Growing up, we had 30, 40, 50 people coming through the house some Thanksgivings. Sometimes there was a kids' table; other times, the plate was just sitting on your lap. You get in where you fit in at that house.

Mother had taught me dance steps from the time I was 3, and we were always singing and dancing around the kitchen table.