Quotes About Family

We're not peculiar. Oh, yes, you are. Don't you realize that in my world my parents are peculiar because they'd never been divorced? Basically because it would have been too much trouble. But you live in a world where not only are your parents not divorced, they appear to love each other

You don't know how lucky you are to be loved. Meg said in a startled way, I guess I never thought of that. I guess I just took it for granted.

Only on love's terrible other side is found the place where lion and lamb abide. 'What's that? he asked sharply. something of Mado's. Marguerite Dominique de la Valeur Renier. She drew out the syllables lovingly. My husband's grandmother. Your great-great-grandmother. Love's terrible other side. The other side of the sun. You can't go around it, Theron. You have to go through it.

We are lost unless we can recover compassion, without which we will never understand charity. We must find, once more, community, a sense of family, of belonging to each other. No wonder our kids are struggling to start communes.

Let's not worry about next year till we get through this one, Mrs. Murry said. More French toast, boys?

Meg cut up some celery and mixed it in with the tuna. After a moment's hesitation she opened the refrigerator door and brought out a jar of little sweet pickles.-Though why I'm doing it for her I don't know, she thought, as she cut them up.-I don't trust her one bit.

But I wanted to do it for you," Mr. Murry said. "That's what every parent wants.

They're a good family...One can tell a great deal around a dinner table...I think the closest we ever come in this naughty world to realizing unity in diversity is around a family table. I felt it at their table, the wholeness of the family unit, freely able to expand to include friends, to include me even through Austin's and my suspicions of each other, and yet each person in that unit complete, individual, unique, valued.

Cecily moved her lips slowly, "Now I lay me," and "Our Father," and "God bless." And then, defiantly, "Dear balloon man, please dear balloon man, Father says you know God personally, and maybe he wouldn't hear me because I'm not very big or important, so would you please make Mother get well and come home and sing me the song about the king of the cannibal islands?

The Greeks in their wisdom had four words for our one, love: there was charity, agapé; sexual love, eros; family love, storgé; friendship, philia.

love my mother, not as a prisoner of atherosclerosis, but as a person; and I must love her enough to accept her as she is, now, for as long as this dwindling may take; and I must love her enough, when the time comes, to let her go into a new birth, a new life of which I can know nothing, and which I cannot prove; a new life which may not be; but of which I have had enough intimations so that I cannot discount its possibility, no matter how difficult such a possibility is for the intellect.

I tell a friend that I hope for Mother's death, and he is shocked; he sees it as a failure in my love toward her. Perhaps it is. I don't know.

Your father needs help, he needs courage, and for his children he may be able to do what he cannot do for himself.

Most parents probably deserve to be punished for one reason or another. Mostly their children don't act on it.

You don't want him for a reason. You want him because he's your father.

You want to bask in your perfect marriage, with your perfect wife and kids, and gloat at the rest of the world! Dont you? And now you've found a flaw, you cant stand it. Well, stand it, Simon! Stand it! Because the world is full of flaws.

He had not known it was possible to love a little human being as he loved Annie.

Eve showed Aidan how to rake the range. "I think when we're married we might have something more modern," he grumbled. "No, surely with the eight children we can have them stoking it, going up the chimney even.

Then she wanted to tell them that Mary Paula had got herself hooked to a liar and deceiver in the international league. She wanted to say that she could tell them a story about their future brother-in-law and his deceptions that would make their pale greasy hair stand on end.

It was different for him. Larry's mother was long dead, his brothers and sisters scattered, his father a

dinner in their house. As she walked along the canal, Moira saw a small man surrounded by dogs walking towards her. It was Noel's father, Charles Lynch, marching along with dogs of different sizes and shapes: a spaniel, a poodle and a miniature schnauzer trit-trotting on their leads on one side and a huge Great

Nolan said his mother had got a bit better about things and that she had agreed to go away next summer for a holiday by the sea. Nolan's whole family had been wanting to do this for ages but his mother had always said the seaside was full of rats and beetles and sea snakes. St. Patrick had only got rid of the land snakes according to Nolan's mother, but he had no power over the huge snakes calling themselves eels which came in on beaches all over the country.

She looked nice, he thought, when she was being enthusiastic and cheering him up, she looked young herself. It was when her face was discontented that she developed the pouting, double-chinned look of her mother—a woman who had been born disagreeable and lived to make life disagreeable for everyone round her until last year when she got a coronary right in the middle of complaining that she hadn't got enough presents for her seventieth birthday.

She had a lot of experience bringing up younger brothers herself but had never been close to a little girl. The