Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
One of my aunties inspires me beause of how easily she shows her emotions, and she isn't ever afraid to cry. My mum, for her work ethic - she might not show her emotions in public very much, but she's a total power woman. My grandma, who watched four of her children die before her, she's a powerhouse.
I don't believe in regretting - one should try to move on. My mum was good at that. She was deeply in love with my father, and he died when I was nine. She remarried, and her second husband died, too. I saw the grieving process she went through. My mother had this way of moving on. It was a fine trait.
My mum and dad ran a family cafe in Sligo for 35 years and worked long hours. We grew up in a very hard-working family and had a lovely atmosphere, as we lived above the restaurant. It definitely made me want to work hard, whatever I chose to do. As the baby of seven kids, I was definitely a bit spoilt.
When I was eight, my mum found me humming to myself and scribbling on a scrap of paper. When she asked me what I was doing, I got shy. I was writing a Christmas song, and I had never shared my music with anyone before. Reluctantly, I sang it for her... and she loved it. Of course she did - she's my mum.
I only went into a gym by accident. My mum couldn't get a babysitter and wanted to do aerobics, so she took me and Kurtis, my younger brother, down to the gym. There was an after-school boxing class on with some of the kids from school. There weren't any other girls there, but I didn't mind. I loved it.
My kids live in a different environment than I did as a child. They've got privileges I didn't have as a child, but they have disadvantages. They don't see their mum as much. They see the threats that one gets. They live in a house where they've got panic buttons, and I've had to teach them about safety.
We've got so many different cultural groups in my family that I've had to learn to accommodate them in different ways. My father speaks different to my mum. My mum speaks different to my grandmother. Everybody speaks different, so you find you start tweaking your language to be more accessible to people.
I was definitely incredibly close to my dad, in a way that was all-encompassing. I am close to my mum, too, but there were areas that she and I did not share. So his loss to me was huge, personally and professionally. He believed in me, not just as a father, but as a director, and that always meant a lot.
My mum thought my TV and film addiction was laziness. If you're an immigrant, you know you'll never be an accepted part of society, but you hope your children will be, and you try to make them essential to the community in a practical way - being a doctor or a lawyer. Acting was beyond their comprehension.
I did Jools Holland, which was bonkers because it's an institution, and as a family, we've all been into it our whole lives, and then I did Hootenanny. I took my mum and dad along, and they were sat there next to Gregory Porter and Chaka Khan. My dad was just laughing, like he couldn't believe it was real.
When you're young, no one cares who your parents are, although Mum would arrive to pick me up in her full hair and make-up and fur, and I used to say, 'Can't you just dress normally, like all the other mums?' I wanted her to blend in more, but I've always been really proud of Mum - as proud as she is of me.
Ours was a very progressive Protestant family, but my parents were God-loving rather than God-fearing. We went to church, and I still go with my mum and dad when I return home - it's a family thing. I played flute in my dad's marching band, but I had an integrated upbringing. We had a lot of Catholic friends.
I remember seeing 'Aladdin' when I was five or six and loving it. I looked at the big screen and said to my mum, 'Whatever this Genie guy does, I want to do.' Mum said I couldn't be a genie, but that Robin Williams, who did the voice-over in the film, was an actor. So I said, 'OK, then, I want to be an actor.'
I found out when I was 18 that Dad had left my mother and the family before he realised he was ill and then died. When I asked Mum about it, she just sort of shrugged it off and said she'd thought I knew about it all along. Of course I hadn't, though I'm sure she must have been desperately unhappy at the time.
We had poverty in our house. Even on the council estate I knew I was one of the poorer kids. I used to go round my friends houses on a Sunday to get their Sunday dinner because my mum couldn't cook either so I used to love going round my mates and say: 'Can you ask your Mum if I can come in for Sunday dinner?'
At 15, I was playing with the C team at Reims and I wanted to leave. It's a difficult age for a kid - I wanted to go out with my mates, party... girls... that happens to everyone. Luckily, my mum told me: 'You don't know what you want, it's football - it's your dream and it could be a great job.' She was right.
When I told my mum I was going to play my first gig when I was 14, she couldn't believe it, cause I was painfully shy at that time. But I just done it, put my head down and got through it. And I suppose there's still a little bit of that, even though it's many years later and I've been doing it for a long time.
I was skint, and I had to move back to my mum and dad's house, back into the room I shared with my brother when I was a kid. I kept getting people on the streets telling me that they loved me; it didn't mean anything to me because I was still borrowing tenners off my pensioner father to go and get some chicken.
When I was 23, I went backpacking around Australia for three months. I saved up a few grand, quit my job and flew to Sydney, then went to Melbourne and up the East Coast, which was an incredible experience. I remember running out of money and getting my mum to send me a few hundred quid, which helped me get by.
My mum was a nurse, and her passion was geriatric care. I used to love listening to the old people's stories in her nursing home and picturing myself in their place. They'd say, 'I went to school in a horse and cart,' and I'd just think 'Wow!' I'd picture myself in their place - acting was a natural progression.
My first mentor and inspiration was my Irish Dancing teacher Patricia Mulholland. She created her own form of dance known as Irish ballet and created stage productions of old Irish myths and legends. They were my first experiences on stage. She told my mum I was destined for the stage, and I took that as my cue.
Being a mother is the best thing that ever happened to me. Before you have your first baby you are a girl and then you become a mother. There is no transition into being a woman; you literally become a mum and being a mum means you always love someone else more than yourself and it is an unexplainable situation.
My mum wants me to get married - and have children, of course. She's met Gaga; we've been dating a while. We're in a committed relationship, and I'm really happy in my relationship. I'm a very lucky guy. As far as having more of a domestic life and settling down into my relationship, we have to see what happens.
In 1965, I was 11 and in my last year at Junior school. I was living with my mum and older sister in a rented flat in south London - my parents had separated when I was five and got divorced a couple of years later, which was unusual at the time. My dad was working abroad, and I hadn't seen him for several years.
My dad was in the Indian Army. He died in a terrorist attack in Kashmir in 1994. After that, my mum and I settled in Noida. I went to Delhi Public School in Noida and then to Shri Ram College of Commerce in Delhi University. It was in college that I realised I wanted to be on the stage and in front of the camera.
My granny was very concerned that we weren't baptised - Mum had been desperate to escape her own Catholic upbringing. But Granny thought we were blighted. Whenever we turned up at her house, she would flick holy water - from the font she kept by the door - over us, in the hope that it would save us from damnation.
My mum was a big fan of E.L.O. and Elvis Costello. She used to play that, consistently, all the time when we were kids. And my dad, he would claim to be a singer... You know, he loves singing, and he used to sing a lot when he was a kid and at parties and stuff like that. So I come from a very party-musical family.
My parents being Bengali, we always had music in our house. My nani was a trained classical singer, who taught my mum, who, in turn, was my first teacher. Later I would travel almost 70 kms to the nearest town, Kota, to learn music from my guru Mahesh Sharmaji, who was also the principal of the music college there.
My mum used to wear the guys' Chesty Bonds tanks, and I used to end up wearing them after she'd finish with them. She's a painter, and they would be covered in paint splatters. She would wear them and wear them until they were super-soft, and then I'd get them. But I was just a kid, so they were like a dress on me.
My father was a great mentor to me and is someone I admire and look up to. However, it was my mum who was more of a driving force when it came to me and cricket - she constantly encouraged me to always remember to have fun when playing. And Mum was the one who took me round the grounds at the beginning of my career.
My dad came over from Ireland when he was 13 and lived on the streets, working on building sites, and has just retired from his job delivering furniture for John Lewis. My mum has had the same job for 30 years as a sales assistant at Marks and Spencer. They've always been really great; they just want me to be happy.
I was painfully shy, so my aunt suggested to my mum that me and my brother go to Stage 84, a performing arts school in Yorkshire. I've probably romanticised it in my head, but I seem to remember that in the space of an hour's drama workshop, I was transformed. I went in really shy, and I came out full of confidence.
I do miss Glasgow but Malibu is home now. I love it here and when I do go back to Scotland it takes me a bit of time to acclimatise. I am a spoilt so-and-so. I live in the mountains of Malibu in the most gorgeous house and I phone my mum every day and tell her that I have got bad news - that it is only 70 degrees here.
I make a wonderful cure-all called Four Thieves, just like my mum did. It's cider vinegar, 36 cloves of garlic and four herbs, representing four looters of plague victims' homes in 1665 who had their sentences reduced from burning at the stake to hanging for explaining the recipe that kept them from catching the plague.
I was fortunate because my mum shared my love of film with me, so we would go to the movies twice, three times a week, and we would watch movies at home. As a teenager, instead of going out, we would have these huge movie nights in. But I almost failed drama at school. I hated it. It was all about the history of theatre.
I was living at home until about 27 and decided it was time to move out and move somewhere else, so that's what I did. I wanted it to be the right thing to do. I didn't want to buy something out of my price range; I didn't want to be stupid with my money, so I decided to stay at home. Luckily, my mum and dad were amazing.
I was 10, and I played Jim Hawkins in 'Treasure Island' at school, and this great Liverpudlian actor called Andrew Schofield - he was Johnny Rotten in 'Sid And Nancy' - came to watch it, and he had a word with my mum and dad afterwards and told them I should have a go at the Everyman youth theatre. I've never looked back.
As I flew back from New Zealand to bury my mother, it occurred to me that no matter how harrowing her loss was and how keenly it will always be felt, there was, nevertheless, a sense of relief that my father, sisters and I could say a final goodbye after the longest goodbye and relief that my mum had finally been released.
Mum and Dad had waited 16 years for adoption laws to change in their home state, Tasmania, so that they could apply to the authorities to create the family of their dreams. I am so thankful for their endurance and patience. Who knows what would have happened to me if they hadn't miraculously appeared when I needed them most?
My mum is, like, my biggest fan, and she's the one who will basically do all the publicity for me back home... She'll constantly be talking to me saying, 'Dan, what's going on? We've heard this. Tell us about it! Dad wants to know!' And so I'll give them as much information as I can, and Mom and Dad are both my biggest fans.
Listen, it's not nice to have your mum kill herself, that is difficult. But at the end of the day, it happened a long time ago. My mother was, I hope, not the reason that I have been successful. It's not as simplistic as 'My mum killed herself; I've got to prove myself.' I was very lucky that my parents took an interest in me.
I was with my mum in the shops, a ladies boutique or something, and I was asked what I wanted to be when I grow up. I think you're supposed to say an ambulance man or a footballer or a soldier or something like that, and I told all my mother's friends that I wanted to be Minister for Health. She was mortified, needless to say.
When I was three and a half years old, I heard my big sister tell my mum that at school that day all the kids sat on the floor and watched 'The Neverending Story.' Having never heard of the movie, I concluded that this was what school must be: sitting cross legged on the floor listening to a never-ending story. Page after page.
Being a mum makes you more aware of how short life is and how important it is to enjoy every minute because you have less time for yourself. A day doesn't have 24 hours any more - it only lasts 10, or eight. So you learn to get rid of all the parasites. I'm not talking about people, but things that could be toxic for happiness.
Mum is from West Waterford, Dungarvan. She's a farmer's daughter. She's a nurse. She left home very young - I think she was 18 - and went off to train as a nurse in England. My dad is from India, just south of Mumbai. He was one of the first in his family to go to college, and he went to England in the '70s; he emigrated there.
I was one of six children, brought up by my mother in Swindon after my father died. We had all we needed - food on the table, clothes to wear. When I wanted a drum kit, my mother got me one. When I got into playing guitar, I came down one Christmas or birthday and there was a guitar for me. It amazes me how Mum managed to do it.
Mum and dad would drive me to the ACT Academy of Sport gym at 5 A.M., sit in the car and read a book, and then drive me to school. I appreciated it when I was younger, but I didn't really understand how much they were putting into it. Now I look at budgets of $70,000 to compete, and I think, 'Wow, they've put so much into this.'
I wear jewellery that I never take off. I have a ring and two necklaces. I always have them on and get scared when I have to take them off for photo shoots. The ring is my mum's mum's mum's, and she gave it to me for my 18th birthday. The necklace is the same one that my sister has. She's called Hannah, and the name is the chain.
My mum taught me a lot about fashion in terms of knowing what looks good on you and developing my own sense of style. Even when we were shooting the Sunglass Hut campaign, we went through racks of clothing together, and ultimately I decided on a short, more fitted peplum dress, while Mum opted for a sexy blazer and black leggings.
My mum, Helen, was hilarious. She had a tremendous sense of humour and was a great singer and tap dancer. For many years, she was the voice of Minnie Mouse in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. She would be in the float as it came along, singing whatever the Minnie Mouse song of the day was. She was a really big spirit in my life.