I grew up in a small, strictly-Catholic fishing village on the coast of Wales. The people there have a different attitude to life than those in Hollywood - people stick together more.

I've had some amazing people in my life. Look at my father - he came from a small fishing village of five hundred people and at six foot four with giant ears and a kind of very odd expression, thought he could be a movie star. So go figure, you know?

Stereotype mentality and behavior is what is enslaving our free people or society in the hood, villages, ghetto, projects and township.

When individuals and communities do not govern self, they risk being ruled by external forces that care less about the well-being of the village.

To those peoples in the huts and villages of half the globe struggling to break the bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for whatever period is required - not because the Communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right. If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.

Go to any small village anywhere in the world, and see what they remember. Everything. It's all there -- passed on like a precious piece of information, some secret imparted from one who knew to one who yearns to know. Taken good care of.

In a village where everyone has only one leg, the biped will hop about more lamely than anyone else, if he knows what is good for him.

In our village, folks say God crumbles up the old moon into stars.

"Once upon a time, there was a boy. He lived in a village that no longer exists, in a house that no longer exists, on the edge of a field that no longer exists, where everything was discovered, and everything was possible. A stick could be a sword, a pebble could be a diamond, a tree, a castle. Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived in a house across the field, from a girl who no longer exists. They made up a thousand games. She was queen and he was king. In the autumn light her hair shone like a crown. They collected the world in small handfuls, and when the sky grew dark, they parted with leaves in their hair.

My art teacher in junior high was a very out gay man and a mentor to me. He would tell us about Greenwich Village and show us the 'Village Voice' and describe his life but it was all sort of subversive and below the radar.

You go to Holland France Germany every community the tiniest village they have magnificent pristine sports facilities.

I also have a soft spot for spicy chicken wings. They are always best eaten at dives and sports bars like Wogie's in the West Village New York City near my house.

Organized religion provides a model of the way all organizations from the state down to the village garden club end a price in terms of a member's freedom of thought and action.

Very much like that and very much a loner do you know and I didn't fit really into sport or all kind of group activities as a kid I couldn't find a niche. And music was not really part of the kind of village curriculum it would you know.

We have been working with Habitat for Humanity and we have built eighty homes 80% of which are being lived in by New Orleans' musicians. It is called the Musicians' Village and at the center is the Ellis Marsalis Center for Music.

If you're the village blacksmith and a model T comes along you better become a mechanic. People's lives are better when they get news online versus having to wait for the morning paper. It's a lot more efficient a lot more real time a lot less waste.

Instead of noblemen let us have noble villages of men.

On bad days I think I'd like to be a plastic surgeon who goes to Third World countries and operates on children in villages with airlifts and then I think 'Yeah right I'm going to go back to undergraduate school and take all the biology I missed and then go to medical school.' No. No.

Lincoln's stature and strength his intelligence and ambition - in short all the elements which gave him popularity among men in New Salem rendered him equally attractive to the fair sex of that village.

But in my imagination this whole thing developed and I started mixing up old folk songs with the Beatles beat and taking them down to Greenwich Village and playing them for the people there.

There is one timeless way of building. It is a thousand years old and the same today as it has ever been. The great traditional buildings of the past the villages and tents and temples in which man feels at home have always been made by people who were very close to the center of this way.

When I gave birth to my fourth child I suffered from post partum hemorrhaging. I almost lost my life. I was lucky to be under the care of trained health care personnel. I started wondering then what was happening to women in rural villages.

One lesson that every nation can learn from China is to focus more on creating village-level enterprises quality health services and educational facilities.

Remember the rights of the savage as we call him. Remember that the happiness of his humble home remember that the sanctity of life in the hill villages of Afghanistan among the winter snows is as inviolable in the eye of Almighty God as can be your own.