I love driving cars, looking at them, cleaning and washing and shining them. I clean 'em inside and outside. I'm very touchy about cars. I don't want anybody leaning on them or closing the door too hard, know what I mean?
By liberating women from household work and helping to abolish professions such as domestic service, the washing machine and other household goods completely revolutionised the structure of society.
My creative process is quite slow. I hear melodies in my head while I'm washing the dishes and I allow my subconscious to do the work.
I'm going to be a happy housewife. I'm going to be washing boxers and cooking and doing all those sorts of housewife duties. I just want to be happy and proud of every single day.
One of my most vivid memories of the mid-1950s is of crying into a washbasin full of soapy grey baby clothes - there were no washing machines - while my handsome and adored husband was off playing football in the park on Sunday morning with all the delightful young men who had been friends to both of us at Cambridge three years earlier.
The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.
Washing one's hands of the conflict between the powerful and the powerless means to side with the powerful, not to be neutral.
My days are spent wrangling children, chipping dried manure from boots, washing jeans, and frying calf nuts.
I always start the day by washing my face and moisturizing.
I started life washing cars in Canada before moving on to selling life insurance and vacuum cleaners. Later, I went through a programme by Dr. Norman Vincent Peale, which literally changed my life. It was the turning point.