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You learn to control every aspect of your muscles, your face, your toes, your fingernails. And that is how you tell a story, through movement.
I read, go for walks and I love to garden. My hands are such a mess. People think I should have movie star hands, but they're just gardening ones. Always slightly grubby and with a bit of dirt under the fingernails.
I bite the hell out of my fingernails. I can't stop. I should stop. It would be nice to grow my fingernails out. It would be healthier. I could pick up dimes.
Luck consists largely of hanging on by your fingernails until things start to go your way.
I bite my fingernails. That's probably not a good thing.
You have to also provide a video for it, look a certain way and big hair... If you're a woman it's even more strange with fake fingernails and corsets and all this stuff that was big in the 80s.
Sadly, I can't avoid being 75. Like many people of my age, we are all heading towards the grim reaper, and I am clinging on. I just to have to sharpen my fingernails a little so that I can hang on for longer!
The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.
I would never do another sitcom. It was so boring I wanted to pull my fingernails off.
I was the girl in the black leather jacket with the black fingernails, picked up after school by guys with loud cars and motorcycles. I carried straight-A grades, but I had a little trouble with rules. I tended to have a bit of an authority problem.
