Pastoral Resources

I had a mixture, my father was a career army man and my mother was a writer.

Oh, my career. What career? I'm over 40.

He loved them and cared for them, and you don't kill kids that you love and care for.

It was a lovely opportunity for the first time in my whole career to stand up and thank people who are really responsible for me getting to realize my dreams.

Our songs touch people, and take them back to a time when there was no threat of terrorism, when you didn't have to lock your doors and when Mom and Dad took care of everything.

And that Michael Irvin would care more about his wardrobe than I would?

I don't care if I fall as long as someone else picks up my gun and keeps on shooting.

I look forward to the end of all this money-making part of the career, to be truthful.

I'm an efficient, good, professional reporter. But I also write. And so what I try to do is write about places that I know that I care about intensely and write about them in a way that conveys the fact that I care.

Otherwise, my whole career has just been flinging myself at whatever is most overdue first and letting everything else stack up.

Cartooning is a wonderful career, and I'd like more women to get to have it. I can't think of any reason why we won't see more syndicated female cartoonists in the future.

Food, love, career, and mothers, the four major guilt groups.

I'd rather have friends who care than friends who agree with me.

A career is a series of ups and downs, of comebacks.

I don't much care who is gay or straight or married or not. I mostly notice if they are brave enough to confront bigotry.

This was basically the first time I got to act in action scenes, with things blowing up all around me. It sounds corny, but I think every actor would like to - at least once in his or her career - play the person who saves the entire world.

You'd be surprised how many movie stars still care about the work.

Our generals talk a good game about taking care of their grunts, and the majority of our Beltway politicians bay with moralistic fervor about how they, too, support the troops.

My husband used to take care of the business part of this, and after he died I found I wasn't really any good at it. I hate remembering who owes me what and bugging them if they haven't paid me.

Use your imagination, and you'll see that even the most narrow, humdrum lives are infinite in scope if you examine them with enough care.