Quotes About Family

From my great-grandfather: not to have attended schools for the public; to have had good teachers at home, and to realize that this is the sort of thing on which one should spend lavishly.

Truly a rare opportunity was given to Marcus Aurelius of showing what the mind can do in despite of circumstances. Most peaceful of warriors, a magnificent monarch whose ideal was quiet happiness in home life, bent to obscurity yet born to greatness, the loving father of children who died young or turned out hateful, his life was one paradox. That nothing might lack, it was in camp before the face of the enemy that he passed away and went to his own place.

From Sextus, a benevolent disposition, and the example of a family governed in a fatherly manner, and the idea of living conformably to nature; and gravity without affectation, and to look carefully after the interests of friends, and to tolerate ignorant persons, and those who form opinions without consideration:

Each morning, remind yourself that this day may be your last. And when you tuck your children into bed at night, remember that they, too, are mortals who someday will die.

Propio del hombre es amar incluso a los que tropiezan. Y eso se consigue, en cuanto se te ocurra pensar que son tus familiares, y que pecan por ignorancia y contra su voluntad, y que dentro de poco ambos estaréis muerto y que, ante todo, no te dañó puesto que no hizo a tu guía interior peor de lo que era antes

When a man kisses his child, said Epictetus, he should whisper to himself, To-morrow perchance thou wilt die.- But those are words of bad omen.- No word is a word of bad omen, said Epictetus, which expresses any work of nature; or if it is so, it is also a word of bad omen to speak of the ears of corn being reaped.

and falling upon that earth, out of whose gifts and fruits my father gathered his seed, my mother her blood, and my nurse her milk, out of which for so many years I have been

That I had the kind of brother I did. One whose character challenged me to improve my own. One whose love and affection enriched my life. That my children weren't born stupid or physically deformed. That I wasn't

love of family, love of truth, love of justice, and (thanks to him!) to know Thrasea, Helvidius, Cato, Dion, Brutus; and the conception of a state with one law for all, based upon individual equality and freedom of speech, and of a sovrainty which prizes above all things the liberty of the subject;

Even more striking and revealing is how he interweaves "sons of God" twice in Romans 8:14, 19 with "children of God" twice in Romans 8:16, 21—and again in Romans 9:8. It is, for Paul, all about family values—but divine family values, and that is what makes him very, very radical.

With all the wonders Moses was performing, there was one I did not think would ever come to pass: that we would finally be reunited. That I would once again kiss his neck as I had loved to do. That I would see him clasp his sons to his breast.

No mother is ever, completely, a child's idea of what a mother should be, and I suppose it works the other way around as well. But despite everything, we didn't do too badly by one another, we did as well as most.

Nevertheless, blood is thicker than water, as anyone knows who has tasted both.

Children were vehicles for passing things along. These things could be kingdoms, rich wedding gifts, stories, grudges, blood feuds. Through children, alliances were forged; through children, wrongs were avenged. To have a child was to set loose a force in the world.

Ten days after the war ended, my sister Laura drove a car off a bridge.

No mother is ever, completely, a child's idea of what a mother should be, and I suppose it works the other way around as well. But despite everything, we didn't do badly by one another, we did as well as most. I wish she were here, so I could tell her I finally know this.

His father was self-made, but his mother was constructed by others, and such edifices are notoriously fragile.

The hands reaching in among the leaves and spines were once my mother's. I've passed them on. Decades ahead, you'll study your own temporary hands, and you'll remember. Don't cry, this is what happens.

Her metaphors for her children included barnacles encrusting a ship and limpets clinging to a rock.

My parents are like younger, urchinlike brothers and sisters whose faces are dirty and who blurt out humiliating things that can neither be anticipated nor controlled. I sigh and make the best of it. I feel I'm older than they are, much older. I feel ancient.

Books and characters in books, pictures and elements in pictures—they all have families and ancestors, just like people.

I consider telling my brother, asking him for help. But tell him what exactly? I have no black eyes, no bloody noses to report: Cordelia does nothing physical. If it was boys, chasing or teasing, he would know what to do, but I don't suffer from boys in this way. Against girls and their indirectness, their whisperings, he would be helpless.

It's okay, mummy's in there lying on the floor. She'll be alright in an hour or so.

They did not set out to disappoint their father, not on purpose, but neither did they wish to shoulder the lumpy, enervating burden of the mundane.