Quotes About Family

These were tears of admiration for the strong women so determined to have their family against all odds. And tears of pity for herself, for the trepidation she felt in place of desire and for the pale, wan sentiment that she let pass for love.

But then she remembered how easily she'd guessed the passcode on his phone, and it occurred to her that she and Benny knew each other pretty well, and that this was something not many mothers could say about their sons.

schools while their dads are on company assignments, and then have to catch up with their Japanese grade level when their dads get transferred back. Only my dad wasn't on a company assignment, and he wasn't getting transferred

As she left the house and walked to the bus stop, it occurred to her that, really, a mother never stops carrying her child, and this thought brought tears to her eyes.

No era un poema. Era un único carácter. Cinco trazos. Sei. Ikiru. Vivir. Sujetando aún el pincel, nos miró a mi padre y a mí: —Por el momento —nos dijo a los dos—. Por ahora.

How much can you really trust the promise of a suicidal farther?

I knew I was dead, even if my parents didn't notice.

Unbelievable! It was a total setup. They were all watching me carefully now, my mom, Muji, Jiko, who I sensed could see me through her closed eyelids, and my dad, who was still on the balcony, pretending to be all nonchalant and casual. I hate it when grown-ups watch you like that. Makes you feel like a malfunctioning cyborg. Not quite human.

It was the most ordinary thing in the world, but it felt like we were lovers or something, because in Japan dads don't generally hug and kiss their kids. Don't ask me why. They just don't. But we kissed and hugged because we were American, at least in our hearts, and then we'd both step away really fast in case anyone was watching.

Do all kids have to worry about their parents' mental health?

Obviously there are things a kid doesn't need to know about his parents, but you could tell some of them.

But sometimes we'd spin the moon, and you had to close your eyes and put your finger down to make the spinning stop, and wherever your finger landed, that was your spot, and you had to make up a story about it. It was a good game, but then Mom landed in the Sea of Crisis three times in a row, and Dad kept landing in these tiny places like the Marsh of Diseases and the Lake of Death. He thought it was funny, but it freaked Mom out, so we stopped playing.

Having a baby is different from all the ordinary ways of being hurt. it's worth it all. Other pain isn't worth anything, but that is.

And when he got home he started on Mumma. He hated her then, because in her fatness and untidiness and drabness she reminded him of what he himself was when he was sober.

Children, I came to understand, need you around, even if they ignore you. In fact they need you around so they can ignore you.

I wish you could have seen the kitchen when I was done: It looked like a hurricane had blown right in the door! But I cleaned it all up, and when Mother came home the whole house smelled warm and spicy, Bing Crosby was singing White Christmas on the radio, I was wearing a clean apron, and she called me her little homemaker. What would you think about tomato mincemeat cookies? I bet no one else will think of that!

Laurie was the nurturer, mopping up behind me, always calm, always available, always ready to talk. And Larry was the disciplinarian who kept us all in line.

Because all the talk about "quality time" is utter nonsense; children don't need quality time. They need your time. Lots of it. And they let you know it.

It is a funny thing about families and dogs – either they belong to each other or they don't. If you asked Peterkin and me – and Daddles – we would all have said we belonged to each other. But if you asked the Monroes – the meanest, dirtiest and most shiftless family in Haddock Harbor – they would have said he was their hound-dog.

Children would struggle desperately to feel love for their parents. Rather than hate a parent, in fact, they'd choose to hate themselves.

Los niños luchaban con desesperación por amar a sus padres. De hecho, antes que odiar a un padre, elegían odiarse a sí mismos.

Such behaviours weren't the reasons parents abused children but the results of abuse.

Rahu ajal matavad lapsed isasid, kuid sõja ajal isad lapsi.

Every individual, however original he may be, is still a child of God, of his age, of his nation, of his family and friends. Only thus is he truly himself. If in all this relativity he tries to be the absolute, then he becomes ridiculous.