Quotes About Family

I remember always being frightened that one day she would eat me

The baby can seem like something her husband has given her as a substitute for himself, a kind of transitional object, like a doll, for her to hold so that he can return to the world.

Now and again,' she continued presently, 'I have met people who have freed themselves from their family relationships. Yet there often seems to be a kind of emptiness in that freedom, as though in order to dispense with their relatives they have had to dispense with a part of themselves. Like the man trapped in the glacier who cut off his own arm,' she said, with a faint smile.

He had always worked for his father, in the family firm, but after his father's reaction to the house Pavel had decided not to do that anymore. 'All my life,' he said, 'he criticise. He criticise my work, my idea, he say he don't like the way I talk – even he criticise my wife and my children. But when he criticise my house –' Pavel pursed his lips in a smile – 'then I think, okay, is enough.

Change is also loss, and in that sense a parent can lose a child every day, until you realise that you'd better stop predicting what they're going to become and concentrate on what is right in front of you.

Besides, Clara needed relatives: it was Diane's view that bringing up a completely undamaged child was in bad taste.

My daughter emanates unprocessed human need where the world is at its most civilised;

Later, at the train station before she leaves, my sister says to me: you have to learn to hide what you feel from the children. They will feel what they think you feel. That are only reflections of you. I don't believe that, I say. If they think you're happy, they'll be happy, my sister says. Their feelings are their own, I say.

My father, a man, advanced male values to us, his daughters. And my mother, a woman, did the same.

Whenever anyone finds out there are seven kids in my family, the imagine my mom and dad having sex.

Whenever anyone finds out there are seven kids in my family, they imagine my mom and dad having sex.

And you know when I was growing up, I knew I wanted to have kids, but I knew I didn't want to do it alone. Then once I was 41 42, I had to accept that I probably wouldn't have kids unless I decided to adopt later on, but even then it would be with a partner.

Father's death left us very badly off, a fact mother circled round with us for a considerable time – she had her own bearings to get.

if any point of herd-etiquette arose which found him unprepared, he had the sense to write home at once for hints (mother had not had brothers of her own for nothing) and that Lalage and I backed her up and could nearly always be counted on to be brusque and caustic and common sense with him.

the Seagrave kids', who, in point of fact, were, at the time of our move, four endlessly lanky young women of up to nineteen years old, with the face that goes with brogue shoes and tweed hats, and about as much bosom as imported rabbits.

Mother was always the pleader for happiness.

Have you ever been married?" "Nope. I was close once." "You were engaged?" "No, but I came close to thinking about it." She didn't believe close to thinking about it counted. "What happened?" "I got a good look at her mother and ran like hell.

He wanted the word "Daddy" added to his list of names. He wanted to teach his son to skate, just as he'd been taught by Ernie. Like every other father in the world, he wanted to stay up late on Christmas Eve and put together tricycles, bicycles, and race-car sets. He wanted to dress up his son as a vampire, or a pirate, and take him trick-or-treating.

she'd packed up her mother's life in boxes for storage

My daddy told me that Parrish men are susceptible to love at first sight. We're one-woman men and when we find our woman, we better never let her go or we'll spend a lot of years kicking ourselves in the ass.

A weathered cork sat inside the box lined with green velvet. It had turned a darker brown and was a little shriveled, but the name Moet & Chandon was still clearly visible. Vivien reached inside and pulled out her mother's cork. The one she'd searched for in the bed of red impatiens. To anyone else, it was nothing. Just a weathered piece of nothing. To Vivien, it was everything.

I found it an interesting portrait of a marriage in exploring notions of how one partner supports the other, whilst not jeopardizing the greater good - which is the family.

Who will kiss you? Who will rock you to sleep?" His voice was slow, drowsy. "You never did," I said, trying to tease him. "You were more father to me than my father, but you never did that." "Someone should. Someone should love you. I will bite him if he will not.

You, of all people, understand the burden of having to prove that you are good enough to exist, that you are worth all the grief your mother caused everyone. Bastard equals monster in our hearts' respective lexicons; that's why you always had such insight into it.