Quotes About Family

And she realized that becoming a family wasn't something that happened overnight. It took baby steps, patience, understanding and a willingness to forgive when things went wrong.

Families are always complicated, sometimes frustrating, but always important.

Family is important at this time of year. I love you," Maggie told Nick. "Have I told you today how much I love you?" "Many times," Nick said dryly, and Rosie closed her eyes.

In our house DNA means Do Not Argue.

Family could be like a cushion, Kayla thought. Something soft to protect you from the blows of life. You couldn't stop the blows happening, but if you had people who cared around you then the blows hurt less.

I can never understand why people seem to think that growing up with unhappy parents is better than growing up with a happy single parent.

The problem with being a family was that every member was affected by the actions of an individual.

This is embarrassing." Hannah sniffed. "I'm too old to be crying on your shoulder." "You're never too old to cry on your dad's shoulder, although I have to admit I hate to see you cry.

family was everything to Posy. It was a warm blanket on a cold day, a safety net when you fell, a chorus of support when you attempted something hard.

You're only as happy as your least happy child,' is the best description of motherhood I have ever read.

My mom died of cancer when I was really young. I'm not someone who tries to work out their own stuff with a role, but I think that happened despite my best efforts to keep myself separate from it.

Winston Churchill's own daughter Mary served on a gun site in Hyde Park, about which the prime minister remarked, "A gunner is a gunner.

Mothers and daughters: two circles, and the all-important bounded sections where they are complete unto themselves. Daughters perhaps have a tendency to point at the differences, mothers to point at the commonalities.

When I am not paying attention to my children, they appear to desperately need it. When I am giving them my full attention, they seem just as happy to play by themselves. It is as though they need to be certain of my attention in order to play their own games and ignore me.

What we think of as the soul is just a mingling of genetics and our parents, in my case, slowly torturing me, or in your case giving you complete unconditional love.

Being insulted by your child and loving them anyway is the human condition.

How could all the people understand the same thing? Was marketing the way to get her family to understand that her life mattered? For the men who ran the theaters to understand that Earl needed a part? Could marketing erase inequality, and let al people's feelings be seen on an elevated plane?

Thats why we'll never get rid of homophobia in this country. The brothers and sisters of homosexuals have too much at stake.

Bruce Springsteen settled down. He used to run around with lots of women and now all he wants to do is hang out with Patty Scialfa and the kids." Patty's from Jersey. You don't mess around on Jersey girls. They're too tough. I'm sorry Bubbles, but being from Pennsylvania, you're no match.

Oh dear," said my mother, turning to Marmie and going "Ce Justin, est-il gai?" (This Justin, is he gay?) Marmie handed her a hot chocolate and shrugged. "Qui sait? Je ne suis pas se petite amie." (Who knows? I'm not his girlfriend.)

A mother is a mother from the moment her baby is first placed in her arms until eternity. It didn't matter if her child were three, thirteen, or thirty.

See that's what people don't get about food. It's never the food, it's the love that goes into making it. That's what's important.

I focused on the passing houses filled with couples who'd somehow survived this teenage craziness of 'he likes her but she likes him and he likes somebody else, you just can't win.' How did they do it? How did they end up in their golden, warm and cozy living rooms with their 2.3 children and dogs and cats? Because getting from where I was to where they were seemed millions of light years away.

As recently as fifty years ago my grandmother was picking cotton with bleeding fingers. I think about her all the time while I'm getting overpaid to sit at a computer, eat Chinese takeout, and think up things in my pajamas, The half century separating my fingers, which are moisturized with cucumber lotion and type eighty words per minute, and her bloody digits is an ordinary Land of Opportunity parable, and don't think I don't appreciate it.