Quotes About Family

King Solomon wrote, "Behold, children are a gift of the Lord, the fruit of the womb is a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, so are the children of one's youth" (Psalm 127:3–4, emphasis added).

I was beginning to learn from my grandfather that love covers a multitude of sins and that I was more important to him than his stuff.

Cautionary Tale: Blood is seldom thicker than blood.

Spirituality doesn't look like sitting down and meditating. Spirituality looks like folding the towels in a sweet way and talking kindly to the people in the family even though you've had a long day.

And then I turned and saw a guy staring at me.... "What are you looking at, idiot?" I asked, giving him the sneer that had served me so well. "My future wife. The mother of my children.

Family gatherings were... um, let's see, what's the word I'm looking for?... Hell. They were hell. Being the middle child, I served and referee and confidante, hostess and martyr. Did I feel we should get together once in a while? Sure. Did I want my family all together? Theoretically, yes. In reality, dear God, no.

And so I make a pact with the devil, or in this case, my mommy.

But they're family, and you forgive them, even if they are human equivalent of hyenas. Because that's what you do, Posey. Forgive.

Gus, do I have to put you in a cage or something? Because I will! Don't push it, mister!" "As an officer of the court, I feel obliged to speak up and tell you that child imprisonment is against the law," I said. "Right. Well, then, I'll take that as your offer to babysit all four of my precious angels when you get home." "Then again, cages can be very comfortable.

So you can't marry Harry, Mom! Not if you still love Daddy!" I sound like a ten-year-old, but I can't help it. Buttercup comes over to me and puts her head on my lap. "Love gets used up, Chastity," Mom says gently, reaching up to smooth my hair. "If it's not returned, it gets used up.

To get a hug from your dad makes you feel safer than just about anything in the world, and in his arms, you don't have to be brave or strong or selfless. You're daddy's little girl again, and just knowing he's there makes everything a little better, even if it doesn't really change anything.

She gave another eye roll and glided away. My admiration for my sister grew. One thing to have children...another to keep them when they hit adolescence.

His child was now officially smarter than he was, and he didn't like it.

You never realize it until you're pregnant, or holding your baby in your arms, but your heart, soul and peace of mind will never be yours again. The tiny hijackers take over before they draw their first breaths, and you would do anything to keep them safe. Anything.

I was pretty sure that somewhere in the mother's handbook, it said your kids shouldn't have to bribe you to get hugged.

My phone dings with a text. Mom: I bought you a rape whistle. There was a gangland slaying on your street last week.

Nothing makes our mother happier than discussing the troubles of those around her—even her daughters, and sometimes especially us—so long as she can come out the winner.

If Adam is cheating on my sister, I will rip off his testicles. Through his throat.

My darlings, I give you this wedding wish: may your wedding day not be the happiest day of your life. May those be the simple days, the ordinary days when the sky looks so pretty, or your baby smiles at you, or your spouse laughs at your joke, and your heart is filled with simple and pure contentment. And may those days number in the thousands.

I needed to mourn my father, that wonderful, sweet, gentle man.

I'm Jenny Tate. Robert Tate's daughter. Great. I'd sound like an idiot. My name is Inigo Montoya, and you slept with my father.

No more bereavement food. I was sick of it. It's funny how time is measured after you've lost someone. Everything relates back to that second your life swerved. The calendar isn't measured by the names of the months or seasons anymore, but by those significant dates. The day we met. The first time we kissed. The first dinner with his family. The anniversary of his death. The date of his funeral.

Well… I dreamed I was alone. I wasn't sure if you were away, or if we were divorced, but it was just me and the girls, and as the dream went on, I realized that you weren't coming back. At first I thought you left me. Then I realized it was because you… died." He waits for my reaction. "I have those dreams about you all the time," I tell him. "Daydreams, I call them.

I was hit by a car, and according to the Hallmark Channel, I'm supposed to come home.