Dianne Wiest Quotes

We lived, until I was 12 or so, in communal apartment with five different families and the same kitchen, in two little - my brother and me and my parents. It was hell, but it was a common thing. My father was not general or admiral, but he was colonel. He was teaching in military academy military topography.

I grew up pretty much living in trailer houses. The third and final trailer house was called an 'Expando' because you could actually crank it open from 8 feet to 15 feet wide. It was a virtual palace for my brothers and I.

I remember getting a toilet in our house. I remember sharing a bedroom with my sister, and my little sister was sleeping in my mom and dad's room.

I grew up in a small house with just my mam and felt quite lonely at times.

I grew up in a commissioned house in the next suburb over, Mount Abbot. It was a two-bedroom house with me, my brother, and my two sisters. Mum and Dad slept in the lounge, and we didn't have wallpaper.

I feel oddly at peace with the ups and downs of pandemic life. They're not too different from the ups and downs of deployment life, which I've experienced a lot the last few years as my husband, an Army Special Forces officer, has been overseas.

Yes, I used to miss my childhood, but I did get a chance to relive it through Esha and Ahaana.

My mum was working in London, so I went to school there until I was 12. But every holiday would be in Scotland, and when I went to boarding school, I'd either be there or Scotland.

My father would schedule meetings over breakfast. Film-makers such as Rakesh Roshan and Prakash Jha have seen me as a child run around the house.

I do have a regular childhood.

My mother Tessa married my stepfather, James, when I was three and we lived in Boston for a year.

We have home movies of Chris playing the piano with Will on his lap. One of the things that made my life so full was putting Will to bed and hearing Chris downstairs improvising.

Growing up, my height was faithfully tracked from infancy to my late teens on the door frame of my mom's office - the only place in my family's home in Toronto where writing on the walls was encouraged.

I feel like I had as normal a childhood as anyone, but it had a certain focus. Maybe other kids focused on sports.

My life was filled with family in South Sudan. I am the seventh of nine children, and we grew up in what would be considered a middle-class family. We did not have a lot, but we did have more than a lot of other people.

My background with acting is deeply interwoven with my family life and my childhood. It's a 'Peter Pan'-like narrative, something that was golden but could also be a bit dubious.

This is the hardest part of military family life - being away from each other.

Now I see other kids and their parents, and I compare them to my dad. Our dad was a really normal father when he was with us. We would get grounded if we did something bad. He would ground us. He wouldn't call it grounding; he'd just say, 'You're on punishment.' Sometimes we'd be on punishment a lot.

I began serving my country when I was 18 years old and entered the U.S. Naval Academy.

It was tragic every single time my mom told me we were moving. I would always envy my friends who had grown up in the same house their entire life, and they had markings on the wall of 'me at five years old' and all that. It made me so sad. I wished I'd had that.

As a child, we lived in flats, and I was never allowed pets.

We certainly had our moments when I was growing up. But the great thing was, if Mom was working on a night shoot, she'd be up making breakfast before school.

Between 1965 and 1980, my mother, Frances Junod, served cutlets of pale flesh - mostly veal and chicken, though sometimes pork - to my father, my brother and sister, and me at least twice a week.

They were saying you would be a tremendous addition to the military, and we can get you into West Point with a full scholarship. And I simply said, I want to be a doctor. I really appreciate it.

My son is about ninety nine percent of my life.