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I don't like dirt. Cleanliness is high on my agenda, but I don't have a phobia of dirt. I'm just not keen on it. I don't really like dirty people or houses or smelly things.

I grew up on two wheels in the dirt.

Dirt used to be a badge of honor. Dirt used to look like work. But we've scrubbed the dirt off the face of work, and consequently we've created this suspicion of anything that's too dirty.

I was raised by my grandmother on a farm, where we were really poor - we had dirt floors - but so did everybody else.

I'm a dirt person. I trust the dirt. I don't trust diamonds and gold.

I was always a neat kid. I never wanted my hands dirty. I wasn't a dirty kid. A lot of kids like to run around. If I was rolling around the dirt, I went home and took a shower. That's just the way I was. I'm not sure. I might have been born with it.

I grew up on a dirt road in Maine, and pretty much everybody on that dirt road was related to me, and they were old. And so grumpy.

Do dirt, get dirt. So I treat people with the same respect that I want.

I love having my hands in the dirt. It is never a science and always an art. There are no rules. And if it comes down to me versus that weed I'm trying to pull out of the ground that doesn't want to come out? I know I'll win.

I grew up on a dirt road with brothers.