Quotes About Culture

Jindal's record in Louisiana is controversial, in part because, in a state which has historically favored patronage culture and a bureaucracy that offered uninterrupted employment for those who backed the right horse, he aimed to destroy the old spoils system.

Historically, art has always had a market. When one medieval fiefdom defeated another they would drag back its jewels, gold, tapestries and art objects as the spoils of war. Art equaled power, riches and culture.

There is so much to explore in Delhi. The city has many interesting experiences in terms of places and foods to offer. There are so many options that one is usually spoilt for choice.

My grandfather spoke fluent Spanish and I have family members who speak fluent Spanish.

If anything, I've thought of myself as Scandinavian. Particularly, Danish. We spoke English at home.

My father was an Episcopal minister, and for 14 years my family lived in China, in a city called Wuchang. We four children spoke Chinese before we spoke English. We left when the communists came, in the early 1930s. I was about 5 years old.

I spoke in Tamil at home and ate dosa and idli.

I went to see Gerard Philipe and Jean Gabin in pictures. Gerard Philipe spoke beautiful French, while Jean Gabin spoke slang. And after a while I realized that when Gabin said, 'What's up, lady?' it meant the same thing as when Philipe said, 'Good evening, madam.'

Until the age of five, my parents spoke to me in Chinese or a combination of Chinese and English, but they didn't force me to speak Mandarin. In retrospect, this was sad, because they believed that my chance of doing well in America hinged on my fluency in English. Later, as an adult, I wanted to learn Chinese.

When I was a boy, cricket was very, very English. Anyone who spoke English and anyone from a big town could play. And that was it.

I probably spoke Spanish growing up about 95 percent of the time.

My mom used to call me a parrot, because the way I spoke would change in every country we'd go to.

I entered KC College in 1975. When I came here for my interview, for my admission, every person I spoke to spoke to me in Sindhi. Be it Kundanani, Bhambani, Nichani, Kevalramani... and they also thought that Ambani was the same. For a moment, I thought that I got my admission at KC College because I have a 'ni' in my surname.

It was very difficult to leave Argentina when I was kid, so I only spoke Spanish for the first six years of my life.

I would like to spend more time with Spanish poetry. I know French better than Spanish, but Spanish was my first language, and my father spoke it to us.

Everybody needs to understand that I learned Arabic from the United States Army as a second language. I never spoke it at home.

There's a way that white people and black people spoke in the '70s that is nothing like how they speak now. They spoke from a soul, actually. There's a singsongy way of walking and talking that's just different now.

I spoke Franglais growing up.

I am an American, but a sense of otherness was part of my growing up. I spoke Norwegian before I spoke English. My mother is Norwegian.

Most of the black women who lived in the lower end of Vrededorp came from the countryside and were there to be near their menfolk who worked in the mines. They spoke neither English nor Afrikaans.

When I went to London, they told me I spoke with a funny accent - English with a Chinese accent.

My dad is an ob-gyn - he's retired now - and he wanted to come to the States to make a better life, for opportunity. My mom said that, on the plane ride here, I did not want to speak a word of English - I spoke Tagalog. And then, after the first day of school, I didn't want to speak anything but English.

When I was growing up, we spoke Egyptian, we ate Egyptian food, we had other Egyptian friends. It was my father's preference.

I was always aware of what the language I was using meant in terms of my bond with my parents - how it defined the lines of affection between us. When I spoke English, I felt I wasn't completely their child any more but the child of another language.