Quotes About Mother

Pascal, if I remember rightly, would not suffer his mother to kiss him as he feared the contact of her sex.

He can't wear them, Buck Mulligan told his face in the mirror. Etiquette is etiquette. He kills his mother but he can't wear grey trousers.

He had spoken himself into boldness. Stephen, shielding the gaping wounds which the words had left in his heart, said very coldly: --I am not thinking of the offence to my mother.

Was it right to kiss his mother or wrong to kiss his mother? What did that mean, to kiss? You put your face up like that to say goodnight and then his mother put her face down. That was to kiss. His mother put her lips on his cheek; her lips were soft and they wetted his cheek; and they made a tiny little noise: kiss. Why did people do that with their two faces?

Mother is packing my new secondhand clothes. She prays now, she says, that I may learn in my own life and away from home and friends what the heart is and what it feels. Amen. So be it. Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscious of my race.

Žmon?s nežino, kokios pavojingos gali b?ti meil?s dainos. Jud?jimai, kurie pasaulyje sukelia revoliucijas, yra gim? iš sapn? ir vizij? valstie?io širdy, kalno šlaite. Jiems žem? - ne eksploatuojama dirva, o gyva motina.

Her glazing eyes, staring out of death, to shake and bend my soul. On me alone. The ghostcandle to light her agony. Ghostly light on the tortured face. Her hoarse loud breath rattling in horror, while all prayed on their knees. Her eyes on me to strike me down. Liliata rutilantium te confessorum turma circumdet: iubilantium te virginum chorus excipiat. Ghoul! Chewer of corpses! No mother. Let me be and let me live.

But to think of your mother begging you with her last breath to kneel down and pray for her. And you refused. There is something sinister in you... (Joyce, Ulysses)

Said religion was not a lying-in hospital. Mother indulgent. Said I have a queer mind and have read too much. Not true. Have read little and understood less. Then she said I would come back to faith because I had a restless mind. This means to leave church by back door of sin and re-enter through the skylight of repentance. Cannot repent. Told her so and asked for sixpence. Got threepence.

his mother?

He popped his head in and out of the window every moment to the great danger of his hat, and told his mother how the discussion was progressing

Her hair, which was a coppery red, and her eyes, which were light blue like her mother's, were all the more vivid by contrast with the scramble of freckles and sunburn which formed her complexion.

Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of all children. Do you understand? Do you understand?

I looked into her eyes. Mom, who do you pray to? I just pray, Daniel. That's all.

Jane-Sweetie, we've talked about your weight- my mother began. I'm only eight years old, I said. How about I promise to be anorexic later?

may have gotten their mother killed. Mary had been right. We should screen clients before working for them. Through a line of pines, I could make out a golf club's fairway. Squeezing

A fight with her mother? It was certainly within the realm of possibility, I guessed. Elizabeth was a teenager and her mother was ... well, her mother. Normally they were the best of friends, but even best friends fight.

I am beautiful tonight, Coco thought. And it's a spectacular evening in my paradise, Palm Beach. Romance and opportunity lie just ahead. I can feel them coming to me already. Like my mother always told me, if a girl has fashion, romance, and a little opportunity in her life, nothing else really matters.

her lunch shift. Then all of a sudden, I heard this giant WHOOM! People started yelling, the fire alarm started blaring, and I could smell smoke. A second later, Mom was there. "Come on, Rafe," she said. "We have to go—right now!" And she hustled me out the back door.

I wanted to remain a bachelor from the beginning, but I got married thrice, and I don't know why I did it. I think it's not easy to live with me because of my impatience and busy schedules. Sometimes my mother is unhappy about a few decisions I have taken, but it is completely personal, and I don't want to make it public.

I barely saw my mother, and the mom I saw was often angry and unhappy. The mother I grew up with is not the mother I know now. It's not the mother she became after my father died, and that's been the greatest prize of my life.

An unhappy mother does not raise a happy child.

I was proud of my Soviet country, of wearing Young Pioneer uniform, bombarded by my mother's Communist propaganda.

My mother, Lillie Specter, was an angel and totally uninterested in politics.