Quotes About Mother

And you, mother, stood behind me, impatient to be going, old at twenty-three, alone, thin overcoat flapping.

Ben had never seen his mother cry before, and it startled him, so he didn't ask again. Right afterward she'd put on her favorite record and played a mysterious song called "Space Oddity," about an astronaut named Major Tom who gets lost in space. She used to listen to the song over and over again. With her eyes closed, she'd place the palm of her hand against the fabric of the speaker, so she could feel it vibrate against her skin.

When wisdom comes to a son, joy comes to a father. When a son turns from wisdom, a mother grieves.

That was my mother's policy: Feel free, feel welcome. Be happy.

The word secret is so loaded, suggests its country cousin shame ; but I wasn't ashamed of anything because our family secret wasn't dark and my mother acted neither apologetic nor embarrassed.

If I could be a third of the woman that my mom is and have a third of the strength that she has, then I will have done good by this life.

I should have been shocked to see her. But I wasn't. After all, I'd thought, believed, that my mother was dead. I'd wanted her to be dead. And it was very much like my mother to be alive just to show me that what I had thought, believed, wanted, was wrong. "If you desperately want something," my mother wrote in her famous book, "then that is surely proof that you don't deserve to get what you want.

Under contract!" she shouted. "Under contract!" Dawn sounded so happy, and I thought of my mother, who always distrusted loud public expressions of happiness. "Those who loudly insist on their happiness are rarely happy." Those were my mother's words. But Dawn's chanting of "Under contract!" made me also think of these words by John Calvin: "What shall we then say of chanting, which fills the ears with nothing but an empty sound?

M.'s mother doesn't reply. She just looks at me with her deep, deep black eyes. M. has described to me these eyes and their effect. I believe that M.'s mother respects me for standing my professional ground. I also believe that I will end up being a private detective, if that's what M.'s mother really wants me to be.

My most usual method is this simple attention, and such a general passionate regard to GOD; to whom I find myself often attached with greater sweetness and delight than that of an infant at the mother's breast: so that if I dare use the expression, I should choose to call this state the bosom of GOD, for the inexpressible sweetness which I taste and experience there.

And single parents, like your mother, often end up feeling like they are inadequate—that there is something wrong with them, that they aren't enough. When really, it's the modern world that's not enough.

father didn't even know about me until my mother sent him a birth announcement and asked for money to buy baby clothes.

The Dark Girl laughed aloud, revealing a gray mouthful of sharp, serrated teeth. "You ask me to prophesy? I am the Mother of Fantasies, the Mother of Faith, Hope, and the Church." De Maillet stared, clutching his ebony cane to his chest. "You are Ignorance.

bore a hidden grudge against Mother for the ease with which she moved on past the loss of Father to daily routine. She never loved him, I thought, and because Father was not rooted in the heart of any woman, he also could not grow into any reality and floated eternally on the periphery of life, in half-real regions, on the edges of actuality.

I'm sorry, Mother. It's just that five days of flying with these characters has made me crawl right to the edge of sanity.' 'I fell over the edge.' Karen said. 'I jumped,' Walter added, 'And I can't seem to climb back up.

The earth is our mother, it gives us nourishment, shelters us, and takes us back to her after we pass

My mother's sympathies were strongly with the Union. She knew that war was bound to come, but so confident was she in the strength of the Federal Government that she devoutly believed that the struggle could not last longer than six months at the utmost.

He's killed himself," she cried. "It's unfort'nate Stiggs done over again there goes another counterpane—God pity his poor mother!—it will be the ruin of my house. Has the poor lad a sister? Where's that girl?—there, Betty, go to Snarles the Painter, and tell him to paint me a sign, with—"no suicides permitted here, and no smoking in the parlor;"—might as well kill both birds at once.

Oh, mother! since thy son To early death by destiny is doom'd, I might have hop'd the Thunderer on high, Olympian Jove, with honour would have crown'd My little space; but now disgrace is mine; Since Agamemnon, the wide-ruling King, Hath wrested from me, and still holds, my prize. Weeping, he spoke; his Goddess-mother heard, Beside her aged father where she sat In the deep ocean-caves: ascending quick Through the dark waves, like to a misty cloud, Beside her son she stood; and as he wept, She

You suitors who plague my mother, you, you insolent, overweening . . .

I am the son of a great man. A goddess was my mother. Yet death and inexorable destiny are waiting for me as well.

a mother's death also means the loss of the consistent, supportive family system that once supplied her with a secure home base, she then has to develop her self-confidence and self-esteem through alternate means. Without a mother or mother-figure to guide her, a daughter also has to piece together a female self-image of her own.

When a mother dies, a daughter grieves. And then her life moves on. She does, thankfully, feel happiness again. But the missing her, the wanting her, the wishing she were still here—I will not lie to you, although you probably already know. That part never ends.

There is an emptiness inside of me- a void that will never be filled. No one in your life will ever love you as your mother does. There is no love as pure, unconditional and strong as a mother's love. And I will never be loved that way again.