Quotes About Family

yet all looked deeply concerned; and as we saw it apparently coming on, so every one looked on himself and his family as in the utmost danger. Were it possible to represent those times exactly to those that did not see them, and give the reader due ideas of the horror that everywhere presented itself, it must make just impressions upon their minds, and fill them with surprise. London might well be said to be all in tears.

There's been a tremendous erosion of the nuclear family— a doubling of the divorce rate, a drop in parents' time available to children, and an increase in mobility. You don't grow up knowing your extended family much anymore. The losses of these stable sources of self-identification mean a greater susceptibility to depression.

todos los tipos de estrés provocan una excitación adrenocortical que contribuye a bajar el umbral de la irritabilidad. De este modo, después de un duro día del trabajo, una persona se sentirá especialmente predispuesta a enfadarse en casa por las razones más insignificantes –el ruido o el desorden de los niños, por ejemplo–, razones que en otras circunstancias no tendrían el poder suficiente para desencadenar un secuestro emocional.

It takes a socially intelligent family to help build what developmental psychologists call a "positive affective core"—in other words, a happy child.4

Si quieres cambiar el mundo, primero intenta mejorar, hacer un cambio dentro de ti. Así contribuirás a cambiar a tu familia y a partir de ahí el cambio se expandirá - Dalai Lama.

Limbic structures generate feelings of pleasure and sexual desire—the emotions that feed sexual passion. But the addition of the neocortex and its connections to the limbic system allowed for the mother-child bond that is the basis of the family unit and the long-term commitment to childrearing that makes human development possible. (Species that have no neocortex, such as reptiles, lack maternal affection; when their young hatch, the newborns must hide to avoid being cannibalized.)

Unless things change, the long-term prospects for today's children marrying and having a fruitful, stable life together are growing more dismal with each generation.

Ed, así éramos nosotros, Al y yo. Nunca lo entendiste y yo nunca te conté realmente cómo funcionaba. La madre de Al nos comparó una vez con un viejo matrimonio y se rió cuando Al dijo:Bueno, mamma, tú debes de saberlo.

It is natural, this heartbreak which arrives first when you are young and never leaves your house no matter where you move, but still everyone wants the kid to stop the fussing and shut up.

Seeing Charlie huddled beneath the covers I wish I could give him comfort, explain to him that he has done nothing wrong, that it is beyond him to change his mother's attitude back to what it was before his sister came. There on the bed, Charlie did not understand what they were saying, but now it hurts. If I could reach out into the past of my memories, I would make her see how much she was hurting me.

I remember that she was always fluttering like a big, white bird—around my father, and he too heavy and tired to escape her pecking.

If you ever reed this Miss Kinnian dont be sorry for me. Im glad I got a second chanse in life like you said to be smart because I lerned alot of things that I never even new were in this werld and Im grateful I saw it all even for a littel bit. And Im glad I found out all about my family and me. It was like I never had a family til I remembird about them and saw them and now I know I had a family and I was a person just like evryone.

Seeing Charlie huddled beneath the covers I wish I could give him comfort, explain to him that he has done nothing wrong, that is beyond him to change his mother's attitude back to what it was before his sister came. There on the bed, Charlie did not understand what they were saying, but now it hurts. If I could reach out into the past of my memories, I would make her see how much she was hurting me.

Why is it so important for me to say to her: "Mom, look at me. I'm not retarded any more. I'm normal. Better than normal. I'm a genius?

My father never mentioned Him-it was as if God was one of Rose's relatives he'd rather not get involved with.

Our parents are mysterious to us in ways that we can never quite be mysterious to them.

non-twin children who are adopted into different families resemble their biological siblings in personality, even though they may rarely or never have met them, and they have no greater resemblance in personality to their adoptive siblings, who they grew up with, than they do to randomly chosen strangers. The correlation is essentially zero.

My father is on the roof. This is how I remember him sometimes. Well-dressed in a dark suit and shiny, slippery shoes, he is looking left, looking right, looking as far as his eyes will travel. Then, looking down, he sees me, and just as he begins to fall he smiles, and winks. All the way down he's looking at me–smiling, mysterious, mythic, an unknown quantity: my dad.

I think," I say after a while, waiting for the right words to come, "that if a man could be said to be loved by his son, then I think that man could be considered great." For this is the only power I have, to bestow upon my father the mantle of greatness, a thing he sought in the wider world, but one that, in a surprise turn of events, was here at home all along.

You are a good dad," I say. "Thanks," he says, and his eyelids flutter a bit, as if he's heard what he's come to hear. This is what is meant by last words: they are keys to unlock the afterlife. They're not last words but passwords, and as soon as they're spoken you can go. "So.

I think," I say after a while, waiting for the right words to come, "that if a man could be said to be loved by his son, then I think that man could be considered great.

The Dolly's around here can't be seen to coddle a snitch's family --- that's the always been our way. We're old blood, us people, and our ways was set firm long before hot shot baby Jesus ever even burped milk'n sh*& yellow.

I'd get lost without the weight of you two on my shoulders.

The boys crept to her side at early dark to sit around her, mournful, with their heads bowed down like they wished they knew how to pray the oldest prayers and pray her well. Harold held a cool cloth to her swollen eye. Sonny made fists and said, 'What was the fight about?' 'Me bein' me I guess.' 'How many was it?' 'A few.' 'Tell us the names. For when we grow up.