I loved playing in the fields back home and racing with my fellow students on the way to school.
I used to live with my grandmother. I used to wonder why the other kids in school went home with their mothers and fathers. I wanted to be the guy that got married. I wanted to be the guy with the children and the white picket fence. I never had that.
All things on earth point home in old October; sailors to sea, travellers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken.
Every weekday morning, I picture my first paragraph while I hike with my dog Milo near Mulholland Drive, looking out over the San Fernando Valley. I edit the paragraph, then memorize it, so that when I get back home and sit down at my computer, the blank screen's tyranny lasts only a second or two. A brief reign!
I was making films about American society, and it is true that I never felt at home there, except perhaps when my wife and I lived on a farm in the San Fernando Valley.
In my mind, the CalMac ferry is linked with the joy of arrival, the sadness of departure, the loss of loved ones brought home by ferry to rest in island soil. It is friendships made and a working life begun.
Everyone I know is fervently proud to be Welsh but you try not to be preachy about it. It's difficult at times. But when I go home to north Wales, or to somewhere I've never been in south Wales, I still feel at home because I'm in Wales. It's hard to explain.
I personally adore the festival of Dussehra, as its a celebration of our culture and mythological legacy. I celebrate, almost, all my festivals with Life OK, be it Holi or Diwali or Dussehra. It's like a festive home for me.
What good to me is the festive garment of freedom when I am in a slave's smock at home?
I know I can eat a lot. Normally, at home, I finish my steak, eat the rest of my fiancee's steak, and think about eating the two that are still left on the grill. I just can't stop eating.
I was standing on the shoulders of other science fiction writers like William Gibson, who had written 'Neuromancer' on a typewriter before home computers even really existed, and Neal Stephenson who wrote 'Snow Crash' in the early '90s and imagined an online virtual world before the birth of the modern Internet.
I never bothered with cars. I was probably one of the few kids in school who didn't run around with hot-rod magazines. As I would be at home fiddling with my guitar, they would be fiddling with a car engine.
Inventing is something that has always come very natural to me. As a child, I was always fiddling with things, making contraptions. I'd see something, go home, and try to make something even better.
I love my garden. I love my privacy. I'm very fierce about it. I try not to let too many people into my home. That's my private place.
Kenya is a land of great people, and during the 2014 FIFA World Cup, I remember meeting some Kenyan fans at the hotel where we were staying. It felt nice to see people from back home cheering and supporting me. Some even approached me; we talked, and they took pictures.
'The Asylum Dance' was written after I'd moved back to Scotland and was a response to moving to my old home area of Fife.
I had very few friends. There was nobody I could trust. I left home when I was fifteen. I lived in Washington Square Park.
Katwe is fifteen minutes from my home. It's entirely about knowing it from the inside. For instance, the incredible vibrancy of style. Kampala is the center of used clothing in the world. Everyone dresses in secondhand clothes, but they look astonishing for it.
I had five children in six years. The day I brought my fifth baby home, that week, my daughter turned 6.
Home ownership was the fig leaf for the rise in subprime lending. But that was really about cash-out refinancings, not buying homes.
