Quotes About Mother

Only later we learned that by fainting Peter was protecting himself from the awareness of his wish that the mother of his early childhood would die.

They were weeping not because a young man was marrying and leaving his mother but because of the incalculable loss and suffering that Armenians have endured, because they couldn't not weep for relatives of theirs who had perished during the massacres of 1915, because no joy in the world could make them forget their nation's grief and their homeland on the other side of Mount Ararat.

There are one or two people - I'm not talking about family, about Zhenya or your mother - whom a pariah can trust. He can contact these people without first waiting for a sign.

Yo soy tu, querida madre, y mientras yo viva, tu también lo harás. Cuando muera, tu seguiras viviendo en este libro que te he dedicado y cuyo destino esta estrechamente atado a tu destino

La otra anciana se llamaba Sa', que significa «estrella», porque su madre miraba el cielo nocturno de otoño, concentrada en las lejanas estrellas, para distraerse de los dolores del parto.

Mother's arms are made of tenderness, and sweet sleep blesses the child who lies within.

Nothing supplies the place of this instinct. All the nuns in the world are not worth as much as one mother in the formation of a young girl's soul.

The misery of a child is interesting to a mother, the misery of a young man is interesting to a young woman, the misery of an old man is interesting to nobody. This of all miseries is the coldest.

He was one of those children most deserving of pity, among all, one of those who have father and mother, and who are orphans nevertheless.

You shouldn't abuse the revolutionaries, Mother Streetcorner. My pistol is on your side. It's to help you find more things worth eating in your basket.

All the nuns in the world are not worth as much as one mother in the formation of a young girl's soul.

This took place in the depths of a forest, at night, in winter, far from all human sight; she was a child of eight: no one but God saw that sad thing at the moment. And her mother, no doubt, alas! For there are things that make the dead open their eyes in their graves.

The wretchedness of a child interests a mother, the wretchedness of a young man interests a young girl, the wretchedness of an old man interests no one. It is, of all distresses, the coldest.

There are in this world two creatures that quiver intensely: the mother who finds her lost child and the tiger that comes on its prey. Javert had that intense quivering.

When you grow up as I have, a lost girl without any real past, you latch on to the people who seem to love you. At least that's what I did. It started early, my holding on too tightly and needing too much. I always craved love. The unconditional, even unearned kind. I needed someone to say it to me. Not to sound poor me, but my mother never said it.

A girl was like a kite; without her mother's strong, steady hold on the string, she might just float away, be lost somewhere among the clouds.

Leni was pretty sure that, to her, childhood would always smell like sea air and cigarette smoke and her mother's rose-scented perfume.

A daughter without her mother is a woman broken. It is a loss that turns to arthritis and settles deep in her bones. This I know now.

Leni heard her mother start to cry, and somehow that made it worse, as if her tears watered this ugliness, made it grow.

The difference between Loreda and her mother wasn't fear—they shared that. It was fire. Her mother's passion had gone out.

You know that food eases every trouble.' Angie found herself smiling. How many times in her life had she come home from school, devastated by some social slight, only to hear Mama say, Eat something. You'll feel better ... 'I've been through two divorces. Food so doesn't help. I tried to get her to put some tequila in the basket, but you know Mama.' She leaned closer. 'I have some Zoloft in my purse if you need it.

More and more, though, those memories felt manufactured, false. She couldn't remember the last time her mother laughed about anything. All Mom did was work. Work, work, work. As if that would save them.

She could hardly imagine a thing as terrible as losing your mother. The very thought of it made Leni sick to her stomach. A girl was like a kite; without her mother's strong, steady hold on the string, she might just float away, be lost somewhere among the clouds. Leni

I don't know how to believe in her, but I don't know how to let go, either. She's my mother. After all of it, all the times she's held on to me and all the times she's let me go, she's still woven through me, a part of the fabric of my soul, and it means something, that she's here.