Quotes About Family

Papa was right, after all. A ship's crew was like a family, and together we had done what we never could have managed alone.

Papa taps on the skylight and I look up. He waves at me and smiles. I smile back. For now, I don't need to know what lies ahead. For now it's enough just to be here, safe aboard the Morning Star with my family and friends. For now, it's enough to be home.

Why is it that parents always want to know every detail about your boring day at school?

Whoever teaches his son teaches not alone his son but also his son's son, and so on to the end of generations.

When love is gone, there's always justice. And when justice is gone, there's always force. And when force is gone, there's always Mom. Hi, Mom!

Hey, Dad. Mary Ann and I were just about to perform our pieces from the show. Would you and Mom like to watch?" Dad smiles. "We would love it. "Give us five minutes, and we'll meet you in the living room," I tell Dad.

It's important to tell the people you love how much you love them while they can hear you. —Meredith Grey

Reader, nothing is sweeter in this sad world than the sound of someone you love calling your name. —Kate DiCamillo, The Tale of Despereaux

That family glaze of common references, jokes, events, calamities-that sense of a family being like a kitchen midden layer upon layer of the things daily life is made of. The edifice that lovers build is by comparison delicate and one-dimensional.

Did you and dad eat the raw-violi I left in the fridge?" "Sort of. I mean, we considered eating it. It made its way onto the table. But we ended up having the rest of the rawkin' raw-sagna instead. (Rawkin' raw-sagna: a sorry excuse for a real lasagna made with uncooked squash slices, tomatoes, and cashew paste, and served on—what else?—Elvis dinner plates). I don't have the heart to tell her that dad chucked both dinners and ordered us a pizza.

Ever since what happened last fall, my dad has made a feeble though still earnest attempt at safeguarding our place. He's put stickers on all the windows and poked yard signs into the lawn, both of which claim that we have a security system (we don't). He's also installed motion-detector lights that go on and off pretty much whenever they feel like it.

Better wash up," mom says. "We'll be eating in a few minutes." I glance toward her mixing bowl, in which she's blending something resembling Cat Chow. Dad grimaces at the sight of it. "What do you say, Camelia?" he says. "Maybe after dinner and I can head over to Flick-tastic to rent a couple videos?" Translation: Let's save ourselves from this swill by hitting the drive-through of Taco Bell.

parenting always involves this balance between what you know, what you guess, what you fear, and what you imagine.

Our first concern is his happiness of course; but not just today." Because it wasn't that simple, was it? Raising children was the longest of long games.

There are few children more treasured than ill-behaved ones who belong to someone else.

These kids, her multitudes, they could grow up. They could move Away. They could—they would—become new, become changed, become actual adult people in progress, people she wouldn't recognize, people she could not imagine. People remade. They would undergo miracles. They would transform. They would make magic. But they were her story, hers and Penn's, so however wide they wandered, they would always be right here.

Parent time is magic: downtempo and supersonic all at once, witch's time, sorcerer hours. Suddenly, while you aren't paying attention, everything's changed.

Head colds should be tolerated. Children should be celebrated.

Claude's kindergarten was full-day, six whole hours of sitting quietly and following rules and being away from home where someone—everyone—loved him best of all.

She was always threatening to move to be nearer to Rosie and the boys, but Wisconsin was- obviously, nonnegotiably, self-evidently-too cold. So she stayed in Pheonix and held the weather to her heart as a talisman, clutched to her breast against all counteroffers. But she came up for the summers. Pheonix's weather need not be clutched to the breast for June through September.

Do you realize, Rosie said to her mother, that I'm the one who's suppose to be calming you down about all of this. Not the other way around? I'm the one who's suppose to be talking you off the ledge. You're suppose to be panicking and dragging him off to church or something. So few Jews at church these days, said Carmelo. You're to old to be open-minded and tolerant, said Rosie. I'm too old not to be. She sucked coolly on her cigarette again, then waved at Rosie to punctuate her point.

Parent time is like fairy time but real. It is magic without pixie dust and spells. It defies physics without bending the laws of time and space.

This is a medical issue, but mostly it's a cultural issue. It's a social issue and an emotional issue and a family dynamic issue and a community issue.

that was how Penn lost the argument regardless because of course you could uproot a whole family of seven for the needs of just one of them because that's what family means.