Quotes About Family

Love makes you weak. This I know for sure. Mom loved Roger. Roger loved Mom.And look what happpened there. She died. She thought her love made her strong. She kept telling me-after she was diagnosed-she ket telling me, "I'm going to beat this Kyra. I'm going to come out of it. I love you and I love your father and that love is my strength. You're my strength.

He easily gathered her in his arms; Gramma was made up of skin and bones and hate and crazy - and hate and crazy don't weigh anything.

Disappointment is part of parenthood, Jasper. The trick is learnin' to love your kids even when they disappoint you.

Well, of course it was Billy screwing with his mind. That's what Billy did. Dear Old Dad had a PhD in mind screwing. The question was, was it just Billy screwing with his mind?

I can't stop you from killing yourself. If that's what you truly want, no one can stop you. I can't be around twenty-four hours a day, looking after you. But if that's what you want, don't you think you owe it to your mother to talk to her first?

He wondered if all kids-if normal kids-had this moment of epiphany, this sudden sensation of understanding that their parents weren't gods, weren't even kings. They were just people.

Mom's already dead!" I yelled at him. "Who the hell do you think you're saving?" And he just gave me his Sad, Tired look. It's one of the three he's got, the other two being Pissed Off and Blised Out on ESPN.

Why couldn't we be one of those families? Why do we have to be us? "I just want something normal," I tell him. "I just want to feel normal." [...] "I can't stop you from killing yourself. If that's what you truly want, no one can stop you. I can't be around twenty-four hours a day, looking after you. But if that's what you want, don't you think you owe it to your mother to talk to her first?

I'm sorry," I want to say, but don't. Every time my mother tells me she loves me, this is what I want to say.

No matter what his birth certificate said or didn't say, he was Billy Dent's son.

Women in the presence of their children were the deadliest of the species.

I have a bunch of friends with siblings. Half the time they seem to love it and half the time it's like they just wish they could kill them, you know?" Oh. Oh. So... [...] So... So casually. She said it so casually. People say it all the time, those words. "I could just kill him." "I swear, if she pisses me off again, I'll kill her." "Sometimes I just want to kill that guy." The world is filled with invisible, theoretical assassins, [...]

The truth is, it doesn't matter. The truth is, it was ten years ago, and I didn't know Evan or his family then, and it's my history, not theirs. The truth is, I didn't wield a hunting rifle that day. The truth is, nothing anyone does it says can change what already happened. The truth is, guns are part of the world, of Brookdale, of life, and I can't, won't, and don't fall to pieces every time I see one. The truth is, I don't care about his guns.

The truth is, it doesn't matter. The truth is, it was ten years ago, and I didn't know Evan or his family then, and it's my history, not theirs. The truth is, I didn't wield a hunting rifle that day. The truth is, nothing anyone does or says can change what already happened. The truth is, guns are part of the world, of Brookdale, of life, and I can't, won't, and don't fall to pieces every time I see one. The truth is, I don't care about his guns.

If you want to fight a war on drugs, sit down at your own kitchen table and talk to your own children.

But in the genealogical plots of Dickens, which manage, against all the odds, and through extravagantly implausible coincidences, to work themselves out against the hostile background of the vast London crowds, we can identify the same narratological problem to which Joyce and Proust seek a queer structural solution: the competition for control of the narrative between the genealogical family and alternative forms of human connections.

Happiness does not come from football awards. It's terrible to correlate happiness with football. Happiness comes from a good job, being able to feed your wife and kids. I don't dream football, I dream the American dream - two cars in a garage, be a happy father.

I kept my babies fed. I could have dumped them, but I didn't. I decided that whatever trip I was on, they were going with me. You're looking at a real daddy.

Where does a child of mine get all that hair, I wonder? Arthur's not exceptionally hirsute, and the men on my side of the family are as bald as potatoes. I must have had an affair with a gorilla before he was born, but you'd think I'd remember something like that, wouldn't you? ... Be a dear and remind me to leave my brandy flask at home the next time I visit the zoo.

He adores you, you know. You're very lucky to have a brother like that." I fall into step with her. "Yeah, right, I'm the luckiest guy in the universe." I heave a sigh. "But in my next life I'd prefer a puppy, okay?

When I was a child, our whole family cooked. All my cousins cooked. All my aunts and uncles cooked. It was part of our heritage. We would load up the yellow Cutlass Supreme station wagon and pick blackberries during blackberry season or spring onions during spring onion season. For us, food was part of the fabric of our day.

My mom made something that I always requested for my birthday called mock chicken legs. She would take ground veal and ground pork and mix it up with a bunch of spices, and then take a Popsicle stick and put it inside a little ball of the meat. Then you bake them. It was like a veal-and-pork hamburger rolled in ground-up Rice Krispies. It was delightful.

When we are young, our parents run our life, when we get older, our children do.

Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings, they're your best link to your past. And the people most likely to stick with you in the future.