Quotes About Family

Kristin Hannah

He'd been the only Wolcott besides Elsa who loved reading, and he'd frequently taken her side in family disagreements. Don't worry about dying, Elsa. Worry about not living. Be brave.

The dark edges fell back again, receded until there was only here, only now. A sunlit day, a celebration, a family. Life was like that, full of quicksilver changes. Joy appeared as unexpectedly as sunlight.

KH: My new novel, Night Road

You live, Loreda," she whispered. "And know Ã¢â'¬Â¦ every single second Ã¢â'¬Â¦ how much I loved you." Find your voice and use it Ã¢â'¬Â¦ take chances Ã¢â'¬Â¦ never give up.

She had counted on a lifetime to teach her children what they needed to know, but she didn't have that gift of grace and time. Still, she had given them what mattered: they were loved and they knew it. Everything else was decoration. Love remains.

cómo podía encontrarse? ¿Cómo podía una mujer entender su propia historia sin haber conocido antes la de su madre?

Loreda pulled Elsa into her arms and held her while she cried for all of it—the way they lived, the dreams they'd lost, the future they'd so blindly believed in. For the children who would grow up not knowing Jean. Her humor, her gentleness, her steel, her hopes for them.

Even if that is true, what does a person do about it? The things your parents say and the things your husband doesn't say become a mirror, don't they? You see yourself as they see you, and no matter how far you come, you bring that mirror with you." "Break it," Jean said. "How?" "With a gosh dang rock." Jean leaned forward. "I'm a mirror, too, Elsa. You remember that.

her mother's fear, and the shame that was its silent twin.

most of all, she'd learned that she had to rely on herself. Certainly her father and her sister couldn't be counted on.

Her surname meant "nightingale". Maman had called Vianne and Isabelle her nightingales as she kissed them goodnight.

I've never begged. not for anything... except my mother's love.And that was a useless waste of time.

I am thinking of how it will feel when he leaves, and I am sure the same thought occupies his mind. With a sigh, he reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a stack of envelopes. The sigh is in place of words, a breath of transition. In it, I hear that moment where I go from one life to another. In this new, pared-down version of my life, I am to be cared for by my son instead of vice versa.

You were supposed to be safe in your own home, with your parents. They were supposed to protect you from the dangers outside.

I let the bad times overwhelm me, and I ran. It wasn't until I'd gone too far to turn back that I remembered how much I loved your father, and by then it was too late. For all these years, I've been left wondering, 'What if?' " What if?

It was the choices made when you were afraid. You were brave because of your fear, not in spite of it. "Yes." She leaned down and kissed her daughter's forehead

On bad days, like today, she knew that she had always been an outsider in her own family. They had sensed the lack in her early on, seen that she didn't fit in.

Fear changed everyone and everything, and yet, as always, life went on. Hour by hour, day by day, while politicians and military personnel were looking for bombs and terrorists, and while the Justice Department was tearing down Enron's papery walls, families went on with their ordinary lives.

Tonight, Mom painted a portrait of our family, and through her eyes I saw people I'd never imagined—a drunken, unfaithful husband and a depressed, overwhelmingly unhappy wife. How is it that I saw none of this? Are children so sublimely oblivious to their own world? She was right to hide this truth from me. Even now, I wish I didn't know it. Sometimes, knowing where we come from hurts more than we can stand.

Unlike me, Bobby will never know the nagging ache of an absent father; he will have the loss of his mother inside him, like a thin shadow on a bright day, standing close, but he won't have that dragging sense that he was unloved, somehow, unworthy

Limoges platter that had been their aunt's, several small impressionist

Kristin Hannah

She closed her eyes for a moment, remembered another time when she'd been scared and felt alone, back when she'd been sick. That was the first time her grandfather had leaned down and whispered, Be brave, into her ear. And then, Or pretend to be. It's all the same.