Quotes About Family

Your father calls you to his court. You need not pack. You go garbed in glorious raiment. He waits eagerly by his palace doors to welcome you, and has prepared a place at the high table, by his side, in the company of the great-souled, honored, and best-beloved.

Bleeding ulcers run in my family, we give them to each other.

Miles was…the thing is, he was afflicted with a severe birth injury. He grew up pretty much crippled, so he poured all his frustrated energy into his intellect. Since the Vorkosigan family motto might as well be, Anything worth achieving is worth overachieving , the effect was pretty frightening. And it worked for him, so he did it some more.

How had he rehearsed this vitally-important, utterly-critical meeting, again? Mother, Father, let me introduce -- she's getting away!

How hard could husbanding be? Don't drink, don't gamble, don't bring hunting dogs to the table. Don't be terrified of tooth-drawers. Don't be stupid about money. Don't go for a soldier. No hitting girls. He wasn't drawn to violate any of these prohibitions. Assuming older sisters weren't classified as girls. Maybe make that, No hitting girls first.

Our children change us . . . whether they live or not.

All sorts of men don't make it home for the births of their children. But My mother was out of town on the day I was born, so she missed it, just seems . . . seems like a more profound complaint, somehow.

It must be quite a shock to suddenly find out you're pregnant, seventeen times over—at your age, too.

I will tell you, parenting is a team sport. You need backup, reserves.

Save me from that! To pour your life into sons for eighteen or twenty years, and then have the government take them away and waste them cleaning up after some failure of politics—no thanks.

She turned for her kitchen, mentally revising her planned family dinner to include a Vor lord from the Imperial capital. White wine? Her limited experience of the breed suggested that if you could get them sufficiently sloshed, it wouldn't matter what you fed them.

Commodore Koudelka had just taken a mouthful of wine to chase his last bite of salmon. The atomized spray arced nearly to Delia, seated across from her father. A lungful of wine in a man that age was an alarming event in any case; Olivia patted his back in hesitant worry, as he buried his reddening face in his napkin and gasped. Drou half-pushed her chair back, as she hesitated between going up around the table to assist her husband or, possibly, down the table to strangle Mark.

Everybody has it wrong way round. Parents don't make children—children make parents. They shape our behavior from the first wail. Mold us into what they need. It can be a pretty rough process, too.

Honesty is the only way with anyone, when you'll be so close as to be living inside each other's skins. So . . . is this Ekaterin another passing fancy?" The Count hesitated, his eyes crinkling. "Or is she the one who will love my son forever and fiercely—hold his household and estates with integrity—stand beside him through danger, and dearth, and death—and guide my grandchildren's hands when they light my funeral offering?

Surrounded by them all, she was reminded of the old parental curse—May you have six children just like you. Except that this curse seemed to have gone awry. Miles would have reveled at six children just like himself; he'd have known exactly what to do. Instead, he seemed to have received six children, none in the least like himself, and furthermore, each one different from all the others. As parental revenges went, this was actually much better.

Aunt Lorna buys all our shoes big to grow into, Mina explained to Miles-san. That's why they slip around like that. Lieutenant Johannes, peering doubtfully into the depths of the refrigerator, murmured, Beer... ? Do you like beer, Mina? Miles-san asked. She shook her head, making her straight black hair swing around her chin. Thought not, somehow. You'll have to do better, Johannes. Aren't all you attaché fellows supposed to be ImpSec trained? Improvise!

Are you glad, or sorry?" "About children?" She glanced at his face. He seemed to have no awareness of having hit a sore point dead on. "They just haven't come my way, I guess." The

Andy was clutching her blue T-shirt. She rolled over, as Tony had, palms to the surface, and pushed up. Andy, turning his head toward his father, reached out with his upper hands and tried to shove off from Claire with his lowers. The floor leaped up and smacked him. For

Mark, no se paga a los padres. No se puede. La deuda que les debes la asumen tus hijos, que la pasan a su vez. Es una especie de cadena. Y si no tienes hijos, queda como deuda a la humanidad. O a tu Dios, si posees o eres poseído por uno

Cordelia was not at all sure she wanted Piotr present, but until the old man did them all the convenience of dropping dead, she was stuck with him.

Paranoid?" she inquired solicitously. "Getting more so by the minute. Having Mad Emperor Yuri in my family tree doesn't help a bit. I'm always wondering if I'm starting to come down with his disease. Can you be paranoid about being paranoid?" She smiled sweetly. "If anyone can, it's you.

So, how long has my mother had this questionable fetish for bisexual Barrayaran admirals? I don't think even the Betans have earrings for that one." Jole barked a laugh. "I expect not. Well, the bisexual part, no problem for them. The Barrayaran-admirals part might land her in involuntary therapy.

Children might or might not be a blessing, but to create them and then fail them was surely damnation

Miles decided he would have to point it out to his cousin at some appropriate moment, preferably when Ivan's mouth was full.