Quotes About Family

She's in love, bless her. After the child's been married as long as you girls, she may be able to concentrate on vital matters like bridge.

You know, that's the only good thing about divorce; you get to sleep with your mother.

If men had to bear babies, there'd never be more than one child in a family.

When your parents are dead your own death faces you.

The day my father killed off my mother was the day he stopped knowing me.

My sons have all grown now, so I'm down from five washers to one, but one takes just as long.

El amor te hace desgraciado", decía nuestra madre. "Mojas la almohada llorando hasta quedarte dormida, empañas las cabinas telefónicas, con tus lágrimas, tus sollozos hacen aullar al perro, fumas dos cigarrillos a la vez" (Del cuento Mamá)

But much more often I have seen the marriage and the family grow closer, better. Everybody learns to deal, has to help, has to be honest and say it sucks. Everybody has to laugh, everybody has to feel grateful when whatever else the child can't do he can kiss the hand that brushes his hair.

Ma wrote true stories; not necessarily autobiographical, but close enough for horseshoes. Our family stories and memories have been slowly reshaped, embellished, and edited to the extent that I'm not sure what really happened all the time. Lucia said this didn't matter: the story is the thing.

Y luego una carta de mi madre, que se olvidó de mi cumpleaños, pero se acordó de decirme que no les he dado más que decepciones. La mandé al infierno, en una carta, y en mi corazón. También yo estoy asqueada y harta de culpa. Llegó el destierro formal: no he 'merecido la preocupación y los disgustos' que les he dado. Vale, tampoco ha merecido la pena intentar no dárselos." - Bienvenida a casa de Lucia Berlin

I told her funny stories about our mother. How once she tried and tried to open a bag of Granny Goose potato chips, then gave up. "Life is just too damn hard," she said and tossed the bag over her shoulder.

Non riuscendo a identificare la prole, i custodi non potranno anteporre la famiglia allo stato e nessun giovane oserà mai colpire un anziano nel timore che si tratti del proprio genitore.

oh antic God return to me my mother in her thirties leaned across the front porch the huge pillow of her breasts pressing against the rail summoning me in for bed. I am almost the dead woman's age times two. I can barely recall her song the scent of her hands though her wild hair scratches my dreams at night. return to me, oh Lord of then and now, my mother's calling, her young voice humming my name.

Children internalize their parents' unhappiness. Fortunately, they absorb our contentment just as readily.

My ideal of womanhood has always been the pioneer woman who fought and worked at her husband's side. She bore the children, kept the home fires burning; she was the hub of the family, the planner and the dreamer.

You see much more of your children once they leave home.

He who boasts of his ancestry praises the merits of another.

The next step was the use of huts and skins and fire, And women became the property of one man. So the chaste pleasures of a private Venus Were first invented and couples had their own children. It was then that the human race began to soften.

It absolutely helped - to write the father in both 'Juicy' and 'Beasts ' I had to see the whole story from his point of view. All of a sudden I understood more of what my own father must be going through - the fear, the frustration, the anger... the hope that he'll leave a legacy.

My grandmother had six kids - one died as an infant - and she was dirt-poor, and all her kids got an education. And my mom grew up poor. And they both worked so hard and cultivated so much of their own happiness. I wanted to have that like an amulet. Not like armor, but like a magic feather. Like Dumbo's magic feather.

My dad, like many Southern men, is this very emotionally expressive person who isn't as articulate in words about his feelings as he is with breaking a chair or something like that.

One of my cats reminds me of my mother. I pat my mother in her. Reincarnation of evaporated mother.

I cried with Daddy in the kitchen when we found out, bright fluorescent white strip bulb, blackness outside, snow, crown die-back, tiny ivory Inuit duck for using in a board game, Monopoly, two big wide Inuit snow shoes in a museum, the fact that I don't know how the Inuits ever walked in those things.

I just hope Stacy knows I understand it's rough for her, the fact that it's tragic actually, the fact that it's just awful to lose your dad and never know where the heck he is, or why he disappeared, the fact that it's like she's just stuck in limbo, sitting duck, waiting for Frank's next move, his next urge to get in touch.