Quotes About Family

Home isn't a place. It's not having a bed to come home to, or a yard, or a Christmas tree at the holidays. Home is the people who love you.

Your grandfather was a piece of work," I told Xander. He picked up a fourth scone. "I agree. In his honor, I eat this scone." He did just that.

That was the first time I'd said that last bit out loud. Toby Hawthorne loved my mother. She loved him. It had been an epic, seaside kind of love. Literally. Just knowing that made me feel like I'd been lying to myself every time I'd pretended that I didn't have feelings, that things didn't have to be messy.

Oh God, Tessie... That is my daughter... And the next person who tries to get between my and my daughter is going to rue their existence on this earth... Every secret you've been keeping will find its way out. Every decision you make will be questioned. You will be audited, investigated, and transferred to the most hellish nightmare of a desk job I can find. Now, get out of my way. - Ivy

What do you want me to do, Adam?" my sister asked finally, her voice soft enough now that I had to strain to hear. "Things were bad in Montana. I'm not sending her back, and I am not shipping her off to some boarding school. And don't give me that look—you were the one who told me to bring her here three years ago!

And then, one Saturday morning, I came down to breakfast, and it all came to a head when she flat-out told me that I wasn't going to training. Straw met camel's back. Breaking commenced. "You have no right to tell me—" "You do not want to finish that sentence, missy. You want to sit down, close your mouth, and eat." "How am I supposed to eat with my mouth closed?" "Bryn, that's enough.

Skye set her glass down. "Don't you dare rewrite history. What do you think it was like for me? Son after son—and every single one of you preferred my father.

but at the end of the day, even if you thought that you'd manipulated our grandfather into this, I guarantee that he'd be the one manipulating you.

Home is the people who love you.

I understand you've been spending some time in the company of my son." Adam's father had a disconcerting stare. His eyes were hazel, close in color to my own, but there was an uncanny awareness in them—like he knew what you'd had for breakfast that morning and how you would sleep that night.

Your son," I said, "impregnated an underage girl, then got physical with her when she had the audacity to be devastated at the realization that he'd just been using her to get close enough to make a move against Tobias Hawthorne.

She sought Sheffield Grayson out, Avery. The man blamed our family for his nephew's death. He slept with her out of spite. God knows why Skye did it, but I was the result.

You have a daughter now," I told him, my voice low. He looked at me, his expression never wavering. "I have two." In the span of a heartbeat, fury gave way to devastation. Tobias Hawthorne the Second wasn't my father. He hadn't raised me. I didn't carry a single drop of his blood. But he'd just called me his daughter.

that little bitch hadn't run, I would have put a bullet in her myself. You think I want a dime of your blood money, girl? You think you're family? You hang up that phone. You forget my name. And if you're lucky, I'll make sure this family—this whole town—forgets yours.

But after reading even just a couple of my mom's postcards? It was getting harder to ignore Grayson's presence beside me, harder not to think about Jameson. My eyes stung, even though there was zero reason for me to be crying.

It would be a shame," Jameson commented, "if we were related." He spared another smile for me, slow and sharp-edged. "Don't you think?

It was a truth universally acknowledged that a person in want of plastic baggies need only look in the Taft family kitchen. Aunt Olivia was the queen of Ziplocs. She'd taken over Lillian's cabinets and had entire drawers dedicated to them - every size, every type, a year's supply of each at least.

Making my way out of the bedroom, I found the loft empty, a visceral reminder that it had always been my sister's choice not to know me.

Why had the billionaire disinherited his entire family after the fire on Hawthorne Island? Why use his will to point to what had happened there, when he'd apparently paid good money to cover it up?

was never enough for him. Toby was his favorite, then Skye. I was last, no matter what I did. That was never going to change. He left his fortune to a total stranger rather than leaving it to me. What else could I possibly need to know?

People who'd always had a family to count on and place to belong couldn't truly understand the draw of that little whisper that said There's someone like you. Someone who wouldn't hold my origins against me.

They were—the four of them—a unit. They were Hawthornes. I wasn't.

Had the old man told his wife that their son was still alive? Had he known—or even suspected—the truth back when this will was written?

An angel," I repeated. "Have you met me?" "You, as in the girl who threw herself into the line of fire on my behalf after having known me less than a day?" Lily asked innocently. "Or the one who spends hours discussing zombie-related military tactics with my younger brother?" She paused. "Or maybe the one who can't even let herself be angry that her mother's a piece of work who's been refusing her calls all month?" Ouch. Lily usually didn't go quite so clearly for the jugular.