My mother worked in a chocolate factory, so when I came home from school, I had a piece of baguette with dark chocolate in it. I remember her smelling like chocolate.
I always remember smelling Chanel No. 5 at home - my mum used to literally pour it, and she rocked it.
We show people that anybody can paint a picture that they're proud of. It may never hang in the Smithsonian, but it will certainly be something that they'll hang in their home and be proud of. And that's what it's all about.
I love to smoke things; there's usually something always in the pot outside. That smell of something in the smoker just reminds me of home.
My mother had seven children in seven years. No twins. She also had a three-legged beagle who was compelled to bite strangers, a freakishly big double-pawed tomcat who regularly left dead rabbits on the front doorstep, and 70 white mice that one or another of us had smuggled home from my father's research laboratory.
The pressure from within used to have an impact on my behaviour. If games had gone badly, I would take things home with me. I'd be snappy at my kids and felt constantly wound up.
I thank my mum, dad, and home for keeping me in touch with my own country and my own land. I can be in the studio with Snoop Dogg or singing for Oprah, but I'm still me.
I worked with people like Edward Snowden. Well, not people who took stuff home.
A lot of my music is very roots-oriented, and that's country and soul. I've been in every roadhouse in the South, soaking in all of that... Nashville is like a second home to me, and I'm just gravitating toward the songs.
If I was at home, I'd find myself checking email and looking at the Internet when I should be working. In the library, I can get an awful lot done in a couple of hours, but it can become quite sociable, which you have to watch out for. There are a lot of people you can pop out and have a coffee with.
We were very poor and my family lost everything during the war - our home and our identity. But I'm a believer in luck and think the social conditions you're born into provide the opportunity for you to prove your luck. And I suppose I've been lucky.
No work-family balance will ever fully take hold if the social conditions that might make it possible - men who are willing to share parenting and housework, communities that value work in the home as highly as work on the job, and policymakers and elected officials who are prepared to demand family-friendly reforms - remain out of reach.
I feel Afghanistan has a very strong social fabric and sense of family... what I would like to do is encourage everybody in the country to appreciate more the role of women at home and outside.
When I was young, you went to school, dealt with your friends and drama, went home, did your homework, went to bed, and started over the next day. But that social interaction that happens at school doesn't end now - it goes until the minute you go to bed and starts again when you wake up.
Only as we live, think, feel, and work outside the home, do we become humanly developed, civilized, socialized.
One weird thing about me: I come home from practice or a game or whatever, and somehow my left sock always seems to get off my foot, and I end up walking around with one sock on.
My great-grandmother grew up in a sod house in Nebraska. When she was a tiny girl - in other words, only four human generations ago - there were still enough wild bison on the Plains that she was afraid lightning storms would spook them and they would trample her home.
I could come home, and I would spend the rest of the night just lying on the floor or the sofa listening to albums. It was like a movie to me. I still do, really, and doing the radio show ensures that I'll be sitting there listening.
I get to sit at home with the dogs on the sofa, record in a closet in the office, send them off and, if I'm lucky, make a million dollars.
Being home alone at night makes me a bit nervous. If I'm at home alone, I have to sleep on the sofa - I can't face going to bed. I'm there with the TV on and all the lights on. I'm not very brave about anything in life. In tennis, yes. In everything else, not very.