Quotes About Mother

On the other hand, it you are outdoors in cold weather and your head is the only part of you that is exposed, then it will play a disproportionate part in any heat loss, so listen to your mother when she tells you to put a hat on.

Mothers are the necessity of invention.

You tell them that our lives can change with every breath we take and tell 'em to hold on like hell to what they've got: each other, and a mother who would die for them and almost did. You tell them we've all got meanness in us, but we've got goodness too. And the only thing worth living for is the good. And that's why we've got to make sure we pass it on.

In a rush this weekday morning, I tap the horn as I speed past the cemetery where my parents are buried side by side beneath a slab of smooth granite. Then, all day, I think of him rising up to give me that look of knowing disapproval while my mother calmly tells him to lie back down.

It's not the sins of the father but rather the grief of the mother that is so damaging.

Mothers see the angel in us because the angel is there. If it's shown to the mother, the son has got an angel to show, hasn't he? When a son cuts somebody's throat the mother only sees it's possible for a misguided angel to act like a devil - and she's entirely right about that!

I'm gonna take your mother back to Lincoln," I says. "I'm gonna get her a new coffin, a nice one, and a nice angel headstone. I'll put her in the ground real good and all at my expense." I expect Billy to smile or say thank you or something but she is looking hard at the wrapped quilt, thinking. There's a part of the dress, just a little bit of the hem

You have business here?' the gruff voice asked. Rafe didn't relish the thought of a musket ball piercing his heart. His mother, and scads of London ladies, would be terribly upset.

MASTER: "But even behind the mother's love lies her hope that the children will support her later on. But I love these youngsters because I see in them N?r?yana Himself. These are not mere words.

Attachment was my mother, and anger was my father. They both died, so I have nothing to do. Now I do not need to do anything." Meditation will become your very nature when you give up attachment, anger, and pride. Then you will not have to pose for meditation, for your whole life will be a sort of meditation.

patches, she is radiantly beautiful, the very picture of a healthy octopus and a diligent mother. She fluffs the

How's your mom?" "Well . . . she's Mom. Beautiful, charming, and obsessive-compulsive.

What are mothers for, if not to help their daughters find mistresses for their husbands?

People will make assumptions, my mother in particular. She's already scenting your bachelor blood in the water.

Mother of otherness, Eat me. --from Poem for a Birthday - Who, written 1960

That afternoon my mother had brought me the roses. Save them for my funeral, I'd said.

Why honey, don't you want to get dressed? My mother took care never to tell me to do anything. She would only reason with me sweetly, like one intelligent, mature person with another. It's almost three in the afternoon. I'm writing a novel, I said. I haven't got time to change into this and change into that.

The moon is my mother. She is not sweet like Mary. Her blue garments unloose small bats and owls.

My mother smiled. I know my baby wasn't like that. I looked at her. Like what? Like those awful people. Those awful dead people at that hospital. She paused. I knew you'd decide to be all right again.

My mother smiled. I knew my baby wasn't like that. I looked at her. Like what? Like those awful people. Those awful dead people at that hospital. She paused. I knew you'd decide to be all right again.

Why honey, don't you want to get dressed? My mother took care never to tell me to do anything. She would only reason with me sweetly, like one intelligent, mature person with another.

Elaine sat on the breezeway in an old yellow nightgown of her mother's waiting for something to happen.' [...] I sat like that for about an hour, trying to think what would come next, and in my mind, the barefoot doll in her mother's old yellow nightgown sat and stared into space as well.

My mother took care never to tell me to do anything. She would only reason with me sweetly, like one intelligent, mature person with another.

They want you to be in a special ward," my mother said. "They don't have that sort of ward at our hospital." "I liked it where I was." My mother's mouth tightened. "You should have behaved better, then." "What?" "You shouldn't have broken that mirror. Then maybe they'd have let you stay." But of course I knew the mirror had nothing to do with it