Quotes About Family

People didn't get nice by accident, did they? They had parents who were nice. Nice to their kids, nice to others.

People didn't get nice by accident, did they? They had parents who were nice. Nice to their kids, nice to others. His parents . . . well, they didn't understand the concept of "nice.

Was our father a Vesper?" Erasmus took a careful sip of coffee. He leaned back and blew out a sigh as he stared out at the square. Then he took off his sunglasses. His eyes looked tired. He leaned forward again, his big hands cradling the cup. With every move and gesture Amy felt her heart sink. She wanted to run as far and as fast as she could to escape what was coming next. "Yes," Erasmus said.

Okay," Amy said, blowing out a breath. "Our grandmother Grace left a will that gave us a choice between a million dollars and a hunt to find thirty-nine clues, which, when we put them together, will make us the most powerful people in the world. So we chose the hunt. Along with various assorted horrible Cahill relatives, all of whom have tried to kill us at one time or another." Shep sighed. "If you don't want to tell me, I guess that's up to you.

She did come from a family of bards, Jake," Atticus said. "Beards?" Dan asked. "Bards," Atticus said with a snort of laughter. "Poets. The learned scholars of Ireland." "I bet they had beards, though," Dan said, and Atticus laughed and threw an eraser at him.

Katherine wouldn't lead all her descendants here for chervil, would she?

Mabel Rose Chen was a perfect daughter. She knew this because everybody said it. ... The thing about being a perfect daughter was that nobody suspected you might not be so perfect. That maybe you were fascinated by the fact that you belonged to this powerful family, and maybe you weren't so great at violin or tennis or French, but you were very, very good at spying.

For women, deeply personal writing can also be described as a rebellion against the expected role, though in the case of women, the expectation is that we will be preoccupied with inner lives, with relationships, and with family, but that we will gear our stories to satisfy, flatter, or collude with our immediate circle.

Vivian Gornick's memoir Fierce Attachments

Christmas came three days ago.

As Ian's father had once jokingly remarked of their gifted son, "Ian permits us to raise him because he loves us, not because he thinks we're smarter than he is. He already knows we aren't, but he doesn't want to wound our sensibilities by saying so.

Lau­ren, he began gravely, I would like four daugh­ters with wob­bly blue eyes and stu­dious horn-rimmed glasses on their lit­tle noses. Also, I've be­come very par­tial to your honey-col­ored hair, so if you could man­age…

It's Christ­mas, he whis­pered. His wife smiled up at him, and her an­swer made his throat tighten. No, she said softly, lay­ing her fin­gers against his jaw. Christ­mas came three days ago.

My name is Nick Sinclair, he said, and watched the young man's curious smile change to open animosity. I would like to see Lauren. I'm Lauren's brother, the young man retorted, and she doesn't want to see you. Her brother! Nick's momentary relief was followed by an absurd impulse to smash the younger man's face for stealing Lauren's allowances when she was a little girl. I've come to see her, Nick stated impacably, and if I have to walk over you to get to her, I will.

Whitney, My Love is the story of Clayton Westmoreland, the Ninth Duke of Claymore. Until You features Stephen Westmoreland's

Sweeping her up into her arms, Jenny hugged her tightly. "Everybody

What kind of choice is it, really, when motherhood forces you into a delicate balancing act -- not just between work and family, as the equation is typically phrased, but between your premotherhood and postmotherhood identities? What kind of choice is it when you have to choose between becoming a mother and remaining yourself?

We seem to feel as though the life our children have -- that we have built for them -- is just a delicate house of cards, held together by the most intricate balancing of all its carefully selected components, and that the slightest shock, the slightest jar to all our perfect orchestration, will bring the whole edifice crashing down.

Instead of saying, 'I feel terrible. I feel guilty,' maybe [women] can take these results and advocate for [national] family-leave policies that create more options for mothers of babies," said researcher Jeanne Brooks-Gunn, the lead author of the 2002 day-care study, as she expressed her frustration with all the hand-wringing and guilt expressed in the study's wake by working mothers. "Every other industrialized nation has done it. Why can't we?

Caitlyn isn't someone to get over. She's someone to come to terms with, the way you have to come to terms with your parents, your siblings. You can't deny they ever happened. You can't deny you ever loved them, love them still, even if loving them causes you pain.

You weren't always born to the right parents. And parents didn't necessarily get the kids they were meant to raise.

My brother's a pain. He won't get out of bed In the morning. Mom has to carry him Into the kitchen. He opens his eyes

on the rug.

She's someone to come to terms with, the way you have to come to terms with your parents, your siblings. You can't deny they ever happened. You can't deny you ever loved them, love them still, even if loving them causes you pain.