Martin Short Quotes
My mother was the concert master of the symphony. Absurdity and eccentricity were not criticized.
Quotes to Explore
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My mother protected me from the world and my father threatened me with it.
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When you lose your mother at 20 and then your father soon after, melancholia is part of your life.
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When drawings of the main buildings I have designed in the last five years are juxtaposed, the fact that they all involve the pursuit of certain configurations is obvious to anyone.
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I think as any mother would be she was absolutely over the moon. And actually we had quite an awkward situation because I knew and I knew that William had asked my father but I didn't know if my mother knew.
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My mother witnessed the martyrdom of her husband, Hajj Malik Shabazz, Malcolm X, on Sunday, February 21, 1965, at the Audubon Ballroom in New York City. My older sisters, Attallah, Qubilah and I were seated with our mother up front and stage right.
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My mother's side of the family was in the production side of theatre. My grandfather, Jose Vega, was a general manager for Neil Simon shows on Broadway.
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My grandparents never understood why my mother Noreen chose such exotic names for her children: Damon and me. My granny insisted on calling my brother Dermot - a good Irish name - until she died; I was just known as 'wee one.'
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I'm not certain, but I have a little gypsy blood in me. And my mother always told me that her grandma could give someone the evil eye, and I'd better not cross her because she had some of that blood in her. Mother always believed that she could predict the future, and she had dreams that came true.
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My mother taught me to read.
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I always say, one way to connect with a working mother is to ask her what she has done before work that day!
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My mother is a proud Brazilian. I love visiting my family in Rio; the city and its people are so vibrant and amazing.
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When I was really small, my mother had difficulty keeping me dressed, as I liked to be naked! I definitely had very strong ideas on what I wanted to wear. My favourite look was always Action Man and Spiderman. Now though, I really like beautiful clothes.
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How do you tell your mother that you feel you're getting... old? If I'm... old, then what is she?
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Nobody could like Donald Trump, surely, except his mother. No one really likes The Donald. But how can you not have respect for a guy who's been down on the floor and just keeps coming back? Nothing will keep Donald Trump down until they drive a wooden stake in his heart and a silver bullet in his brain.
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My family was very unorthodox. My mother was very eccentric and amazing. She always treated us like adults.
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I guess the most seminal moment going early way back was my father died when I was 3 years old. I was raised by my grandparents, and my mother went back and got a degree.
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My younger sister had kids before I did, and managed to earn a master's degree while raising them as a single parent. Now she's a brilliant second-grade teacher. I'm in awe of her ability to juggle everything and still be a great mother.
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My father was a dark-skinned brother, but my mother was a very fair-skinned lady. From what I understand, she was Creole; we think her people originally came from New Orleans. She looked almost like a white woman, which meant she could pass - as folks used to say back then. Her hair was jet-black. She was slim and very attractive.
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My mother had a great voice. Not like mine, not like my sister's, not like my son's - a high soprano voice, but like a bird. I mean, really beautiful.
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Life is an admirable arrangement, isn't it, little mother. It is so clever of it to have June in every year and a morning in every day, let alone things like birds, and Shakespeare, and one's work.
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The labs were happy that I was brave enough to attempt to program it and the $5 million computer was left entirely to my use. I was their human guinea pig.
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I never take storms as seriously as I should, which is probably not the way I should be handling it. I think it's to do with growing up in New Orleans and having a hurricane, like, once a week.
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MIDWINTER IS THE DREARIEST of the year. Days are short, nights are long, and both are cold and wet with no immediate prospect of relief. Winter’s Tail is what the old wives call it, dragging filth at winter’s ass.
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My mother was the concert master of the symphony. Absurdity and eccentricity were not criticized.
