Quotes About Family

Ea nu voia sa fie eliberata in salbaticie. Voia sa fie pastrata si iubita. Sa apartina unui loc si unei familii,irevocabil.

I'm going to be the scariest grandma in the world," she muttered, grouchy and kind of looking forward to it.

Cualquiera que se meta con mi hermana", habia exclamado una vez, todo bravuconería, "tendrá que vérseleas... con mi hermana

What?" demanded Liraz. "Why are you laughing?" "Because life's a bastard," was all Akiva could say. "Well then," was his sister's flat reply. "I guess we fit right in.

Quelle sono le nostre madri». La sua voce era aspra. «Noi siamo spade, così ci dicono, e le spade non hanno madre né padre, ma io ne ho avuta una un tempo, e non riesco nemmeno a ricordarne il nome.»

Figlia del mio cuore. Doppiamente figlia, mia gioia. Il tuo sogno è il mio sogno, il tuo nome è realtà. Tu sei tutta la nostra speranza».

She asked Janie what it was like to have a mother, and Janie leaned over and gave Zorrie a kiss on the top of her head and then turned her around and gave her a quick kick in her seat and told her that having a mother was those two things, and that if sometimes it was more of one than the other, it all balanced out in the end.

He would gather up the ages and plant and reap what he and his father had sown. All the while I would watch. From my chair. From my window. From my garden. Watch until my eyes died at their roots and I fell cold silent in my skirts and could watch no more.

Mi taku oyasin. (We are all related.)

She was the smile that sent her three girls away to school every morning.

My Dad was overweight and unhealthy, and he died young. I wasn't going to let that happen to me.

Three generations of women out on the front porch, four counting little Emily, trying to put words around a past and a future that could never be explained.

The two women worked easily together, but I soon sensed that, though Belle was in charge of the kitchen, Mama Mae was in charge of Belle.

Our family is evidently our second self, more than self, existing before self, and surviving self with the better part of self. It is the image of the holy and loving unity of beings revealed by the small group of creatures who hold to one another, and made visible by feeling!

We are ashamed at the sight of a monkey--somehow as we are shy of poor relations.

Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother, Why wert thou not born in my father's dwelling?

Grief is just so scary.... If we finally begin to cry all those suppressed tears, they will surely wash us away like the Mississippi River. That's what our parents told us. We got sent to our rooms for having huge feelings. In my family, if you cried or got angry, you didn't get dinner.

You fall so deeply in love with your grandbaby. It's so so so much easier than being a parent, because you really don't have much responsibility. And just when you are at the end of your rope with exhaustion, the parents take the baby away. So it's the best of both worlds.

We don't say "I love you" or "thank you" to our parents because it would feel contrived to say those words to ourselves. Our parents and we are one and the same.

One of these days," Ming mutters, "Jerry's going to take a trip to China. He'll get a whiff of the real breadth and depth of Chinese cooking, legendary dishes. That chicken wrapped in lotus leaves he's read about. Authentic peppers from Sichuan, fresh as hell. Then he'll leave the U.S. for good, retire to Asia, and Dad's going to have to cough up real money for a lawyer.

I'm at peace with my family, my friends, myself and God so there's really nothing else that I worry about.

I want to die at a hundred years old with an American flag on my back and the star of Texas on my helmet, after screaming down an Alpine descent on a bicycle at 75 miles per hour. I want to cross one last finish line as my wife and my ten children applaud, and then I want to lie down in a field of those famous French sunflowers and gracefully expire, the perfect contradiction to my once anticipated poignant early demise.

My old man's a white old man And my old mother's black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mother And wished she were in hell, I'm sorry for that evil wish And now i wish her well My old man died in a fine big house My Ma died in a shack. I wonder were i'm going to die, Being neither white nor black?

Well, when I was five, I wanted my mother to let me go around and around inside a dryer with the clothes," Clary said. "The difference is, she didn't let me." "Probably because going around and around in a dryer can be fatal," Jace pointed out, "whereas pasta is rarely fatal. Unless Isabelle makes it.