There is not a lot of separation between work and home life.

A house is no home unless it contain food and fire for the mind as well as for the body.

I'm still that little girl who lisped and sat in the back of the car and threw vegetables at the back of her head when we drove home from the market. That never goes.

There is one timeless way of building. It is a thousand years old, and the same today as it has ever been. The great traditional buildings of the past, the villages and tents and temples in which man feels at home, have always been made by people who were very close to the center of this way.

My restless, roaming spirit would not allow me to remain at home very long.

My wife was delighted with the home I had given her amid the prairies of the far west.

The first presentation of my show was given in May,1883, at Omaha, which I had then chosen as my home. From there we made our first summer tour, visiting practically every important city in the country.

With the help of a friend I got father into a wagon, when the crowd had gone. I held his head in my lap during the ride home. I believed he was mortally wounded. He had been stabbed down through the kidneys, leaving an ugly wound.

I had no books at home. I started to frequent a public library in Lisbon. It was there, with no help except curiosity and the will to learn, that my taste for reading developed and was refined.

It's simple: You get a part. You play a part. You play it well. You do your work and you go home. And what is wonderful about movies is that once they're done, they belong to the people. Once you make it, it's what they see. That's where my head is at.