Quotes About Family

Any other woman would have fallen over in fear when Hart turned that famous stare on her. Hart's own wife had fainted on more than one occasion when Hart had looked at her. Not Beth. She'd stood straight and tall and told Hart what she thought of him. Ian had wanted to laugh until the paintings of his illustrious ancestors rang with it. Hart needed a kick in his ass sometimes, and if Beth wanted to do it, Ian would let her.

an took one step closer to Hart. Though he kept his eyes averted, there was no mistaking the anger in his stance and his voice. "She is my wife, under my protection. The only way I will let you do anything against this marriage is if you declare me a lunatic again." Hart flushed dull red. "Ian, listen to me—" "I want her as my wife, and she stays my wife." Ian softened his voice a notch. "She is a Mackenzie now. Treat her as one.

He remembered that his brothers had been puzzled and angry that Ian had let Isabella lay a hand on his arm or give him a quick kiss on the cheek, when he refused to let the rest of his family touch him. Ian had thought his brothers fools about that. If they couldn't understand the difference between three overbearing Scotsmen who smelled of smoke and whiskey, and a lovely young woman scented with of attar of roses, he couldn't help them.

It's a besetting sin of the family. Uncle Hart had his own personal brothel at my age, where he trained ladies in the art of exquisite pleasure. He trained them, not the other way around, the pompous bastard. Dad had his own racing stable, Uncle Mac was already a celebrated artist with a scandalous marriage. I'm a bit late in the proceedings for a Mackenzie.

I'm trying to teach my son mercy and restraint," Dylan said to Crosby, his voice guttural. "Because I don't have any myself.

Hart having arrived before them, insisted they lift at least one glass to old Mrs. McCray. "May she, her husband, and our father be bullying one another in the great beyond." "I hope they enjoy it", Mac said lifting his glass. His cut crystal goblet held tea, not whiskey. Mac now drank no alcohol of any kind. "Confusion to them all," Cam said, joining the toast.

Audrey looked much like Mary- fair-haired with a touch of red in it, and blue-eyed. But while Mary's face was a bit round, holding the robustness of her father, Audrey had the more delicate features of their late mother. Her blue eyes were large in her face, her chin pointed, her mouth soft. When she smiled, she was lovely and ethereal.

He knew Fionn had her back, and that fact warmed him. The family that fights rogue Shifters and upstart Fae together . . .

No idea who that is," Sean said. "Some kind of pervert, looks like," Glory said. She ripped Tiger's shirts out of the man's hands. "Stealing Shifter clothes. What were you going to do next, break in and steal my bras?" "Glory," Andrea said to her aunt in calm tones like still water. "Doesn't matter," Glory said, showing her teeth in a smile. "I don't wear any.

A woman was not considered related to her own child by the bizarre laws of England. The man's seed contained the whole of the baby, so they said, who nestled inside the woman for most of a year before she bore it. This made the child the father's, not the mother's.

Mac, I want you to go back to the house and make sure the ladies don't get the idea to go searching as well. I told Eleanor not to, but you know the Mackenzie females." Mac scowled."Hell, Hart, can't you find something easier for me to do? Go up against an army of assassins in my underwear, maybe?

Illegitimate children can be left money, but they can't inherit the peerage." "You wouldn't want it," Cameron put in. "More trouble than it's worth. And for God's sake, don't murder Hart or I'm next.

Hart caressed the letters of baby Graham's name. "Mac likes to say, We're Mackenzies. We break what we touch. But this little Mackenzie… he broke me.

The house swallowed them. Dylan put his hands on Kim's and Liam's shoulders. "The Goddess bless you both." He kissed Kim's forehead. "Thank you Kim." He smiled and walked away. Liam watched him, his heart full. "Is he thanking me for getting pregnant?" Kim asked. "It wasn't difficult, with all the sex we kept having. You did as much as I did.

I want to sleep beside you for the rest of my life, to hold you when you have my child inside you, to worry with you over the little hellions we will create, to sit with you on the veranda in the dusk of our lives, and to lie beside you in some churchyard through eternity. -Ransom Tyler

I sat parked for a while in the parent pickup lot, watching a bunch of little kids run relays up and down the field. To be nine years old. To have life simply about family and friends and who was mad at who and which games you wanted to play at recess, and getting gold stars on spelling tests, an feeling that first crush. Laurel, you had everything back then, and you didn't even know it.

What did we do those days, stuck at home, my sons might someday ask. We lived or tolerated living. We looked away from death.

loving one's children does not guarantee that one will never fail them

A quilt, like a family, doesn't have to be perfect, but it does have to be inclusive.

a family was an act of creation, the piecing together of disparate fragments into one cloth -- often harmonious, occasionally clashing and discordant, but sometimes unexpectedly beautiful and strong. Without contrast, there was no pattern... and each piece... would endure if sewn fast to the others with strong seams -- bonds of love and loyalty, traditions and faith.

There was so much I needed to learn about Adam before our wedding. I needed to show him how perfect we could be together. I had to win over his friends and family, possibly convert to Judaism, then get him to propose. I needed a serious action plan. I needed a first date.

This helped me a lot," he said. What helped who a lot? I wondered as I stood beside the open door. "PFLAG?" Jason asked after I heard the sound of a book dropping on his desk. "Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays. I heard you talking to the missus and … my brother was gay.

You know I'm mad about you and you're the most fabulous daughter a mother could want. When you call me Mommy, it pushes my buttons and makes me feel older than I really am. Plus, you're a precocious child. Why don't you call me Anjoli?" We weren't like mother and daughter. It was more like two single women sharing an apartment in Greenwich Village in the seventies. Except I was five.

Of course, as in all religions and cultures, there is contradiction, such as the lavish bagel and lox spreads brought in by Sheppy's. We Jews believe in a lovely catered meal for the grieving family—as long as their asses go numb from sitting on crates. Suffer but eat well!