Quotes About Family

Lincoln chuckled yet again. "What's that poem you're always quoting? About parents?" Teddy nodded. "Larkin.

If she wanted to go back to Boston so damn bad, she should just do it. He said this knowing full well she wouldn't, for it was the particular curse of the Whiting men that their wives remained loyal to them out of spite. By

You look like your mom," he said, smiling.

Like many fathers, Lincoln's now had two permanent residences—one in Dunbar, Arizona, the other in his only son's head.

THE THING TO UNDERSTAND about your father," Lincoln's mother had once explained when he was in high school, "is that you always have a choice. You can do things his way, or you can wish you had.

It's possible to overlook character flaws of in-laws for the simple reason that you feel neither responsible for them nor genetically implicated.

Miles smiled and gave her a kiss on top of the head, breathing her in, this kid who wasn't a kid anymore but still smelled like one. Everything about his daughter seemed just about right, including the way the second thing she said often contradicted the first. Things were going okay. Except they weren't.

Some phrases were truly magical in their ability to dredge up the past from the bottom of life's lake, and for Sully, like all errant fathers, "Don't tell your mother" was such a phrase. He hadn't used it in about thirty years. But the words were right there, anxious to be spoken again after so long, a holy incantation. It was the phrase he'd been born to speak

In my own way, I too was unable to execute his wishes. He'd begged me before I left that afternoon when he'd tried to go home to stay away from the hospital, now that it was just a matter of time. But I couldn't, and toward the end I saw in his eyes each time that I appeared beside his bed that he was glad to see me, and scared as hell of dying alone. Which he ended up doing anyway. The

everybody romanticized old people, seeing in them their own lost parents and grandparents, most of whom had bequeathed to their children the usual legacy of guilt, along with the gift of selective recollection.

Hattie was an institution in Bath, and besides, everybody romanticized old people, seeing in them their own lost parents and grandparents, most of whom had bequeathed to their children the usual legacy of guilt, along with the gift of selective recollection. Most fathers and mothers did their children the great favor of dying before they began fouling themselves, before their children learned to equate them with urine-soaked undergarments and other grim realities of age and infirmity.

His mother's position was that his father could come back and live with them again as soon as he grew up, but not until. His father had predicted that his mother would kiss his ass before he'd ever walk through that door again. Both of these, Lin had concluded, were highly unlikely events.

I just heard Mother in the bathroom," she said, up on one elbow to smooth hair away from my forehead, a gentle, wonderful intimacy that took my breath away.

Even to my mother, her hard-won autonomy must at times have resembled a cage. Still, it was a cage of her own design, different from and superior to the one my father and her parents, and Gloversville itself ,would have put her in, if she'd allowed them to.

I was raised to be a rich kid, only without the complication of money.

From far beyond the horizons that bound this bleak plantation there had come to me through my living the knowledge that my father was a black peasant who had gone to the city seeking life, but who had failed in the city; a black peasant whose life had been hopelessly snarled in the city, and who had at last fled the city—that same city which had lifted me in its burning arms and borne me toward alien and undreamed of shores of knowing.

While his mother sank in his eyes into the embodiment of passivity and victimization, he found it almost impossible to forge warm ties with other human beings.

Há memórias que são o próprio amor: o toque das mãos da minha mãe; o cheiro do cachimbo do meu Papá; o sorriso de Meia-Noite. E os olhos de Violeta. Compreendi que para mim ela era ao mesmo tempo uma estranha e a maior das amigas.

Miranda, honey, sit down. I wish you'd eat something." Peering out the window, Aunt Teeta gave a shudder. "Y'all be sure and take umbrellas. There's supposed to be a doozy of a storm coming in." "How much of a doozy?" Etienne asked. "Medium doozy or big doozy?" Aunt Teeta flapped her dishtowel at him. " Monster doozy. Big bad winds, flash-flood rain, and maybe even tornadoes kind of doozy.

I love the past so much because I love the present. I know I have to go into the world and become shaped, altered, bent, myself-individuated-and that there will be pain and joy in the process. I am not the land itself, neither am I a clone of my family. But the magnitude of my attachment to these things-and the stability it affords-staggers me.

I imagined they had been listening for me, but still had not heard me drive up, which made me realize how old they really were: Grandfather, old beyond his time, and Father, old before his time.

In four more years, after Grandfather died, Father would move to Fredericksburg and start a garden: not yet tired of living, but tired, I knew, of wondering what he had missed.

his hardest cases, where parents, upstanding people, had reported children missing but were later proven to have lied to cover up abuse, an accidental death or a homicide. He had looked into the eyes of mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles and friends as they lied, watched their tears, even believed that they were convinced in the truth of their own lies until the facts, the evidence, emerged and the incontrovertible truth was revealed.

Dad, she can't be dead. She's my mom. She can't be.