When a father, absent during the day, returns home at six, his children receive only his temperament, not his teaching.
My evening really begins when I take a long, hot bath. I light a candle, and I turn on the news and try to catch up. It's when I can breathe from the day to the night, and that means a lot to me.
When I was younger I used to get my best writing done at night, but now it has to be during the day. I usually finish work at half past seven, then go back to the house to open a bottle of wine, have dinner, and then read or watch television.
I don't eat shellfish. I drink wine moderately and have one whiskey every evening before dinner.
In the mornings, I use a good moisturiser and a colouring lip balm. In the evenings, though, I like to go a little glam.
When I get through the front door, I haven't got time to tie my shoelaces. There are three kids, and the wife, and I make that absolutely the priority. By the time we've got the kids to bed and had a bite to eat we're in bed by 10:15 and are knackered!
After a tough day, I go eat some steak and potatoes and take a shower.
What do I wear in bed? Why, Chanel No. 5, of course.
I only read email early in the morning or in the evenings, which isn't perfect, but that's how I like it. I don't want to spend my day doing that.
I spend most of my evenings grinding into the early morning to my favorite music.
I never go bed without taking my makeup off.
Physically I'm tired at the end of the day and quite glad to be reading in bed by midnight.
It's just an ice bucket with a bottle in it. The two flute glasses are little tray. I got to shut the curtains. I'm in my boxer shorts and shirt. I'm going to take a bath and go to bed. But I want to shut the blinds so it's really dark in the room.
Each morning sees some task begun, each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, has earned a night's repose.
A sip of wine, a cigarette, And then it’s time to go. I tidied up the kitchenette; I tuned the old banjo. I’m wanted at the traffic-jam. They’re saving me a seat.
I write about whatever turns up. Every single day, I'm sitting down for three to five hours in the evenings wrestling away and producing far too much verse.
I tend to come home and eat a bowl of cereal. I'm not thinking about baking a pie when I'm off work.
When I lived in Holland, it was a lot of television, watching Netflix all the time. You eat at 6 o'clock, 7 o'clock, you are finished at 8, and then you go lay down. You rest. That's what I did in Holland.
The period without the diary remains an ordeal. Every evening I want my diary as one wants opium.
I play a lot of PlayStation, to be honest. I play with Marcelo Melo, and he can't beat me. That makes me very happy. That's my evening routines.
I try to be in bed by 11. Sometimes I watch a 'West Wing' rerun. That relaxes me.
Some nights, a romantic dinner can be killed by having to do dishes afterward, so it probably suits you better to go out for dinner. But I love cooking and always have.
I have this extraordinary life during the day, and then I get to come home to my sweet husband who loves to cook with me. I have a nice glass of wine, he has some scotch, we chat, we cook, and we hang out with the dog. I have an absolute dream life.
I know folks all have a tizzy about it, but I like a little bourbon of an evening. It helps me sleep. I don't much care what they say about it.
When I was a child, we used to look forward to the end of the day when we would hear another ten minutes of a story.
