Quotes About Father

Pilots say that learning to fly makes you feel taller. In my father's case that was certainly true. By the time his commanding officer pinned on his gold flight wings at Corpus Christi Naval Air Station in June 1943, he had grown two inches since his enlistment, topping out at six feet, two inches. He was not quite nineteen years old, making him the youngest pilot in the United States Navy.

When the Holy Father passed away in 2005, Laura, Dad, Bill Clinton, and I flew together to his funeral in Rome. It was the first time an American president had attended the funeral of a pope, let alone brought two of his predecessors.

I could have been a surgeon too,' he thought to himself. And owned a car like that. Probably not a surgeon, but it was a fact that he had almost become a doctor. He had set out to study medicine and sometimes felt a hankering for the medical profession. If his father hadn't died three years too soon …

Why, her father would turn in his grave--well, as a matter of fact, he was cremated, but what I mean is, if he hadn't been he would have. [Ermyntrude]

He would not object, he said, to accepting a post as a librarian. But as Cecilia was unable to imagine that her father or her brother would feel any marked degree of satisfaction in giving her in marriage to a librarian, this very handsome concession on Mr Fawnhope's part merely added to her despondency.

I am selfish, father? Because I will not become the thing I despise? And narrow, Philips, to despise what you do not know. I am to be a painted popinjay! I tell you, sir, Cleone may take me as I am! Or leave you as you are, said Sir Maurice gently.

The thought of his high and imposing father's regal progress to Harrowgate, and his very brief stay there, made Desford begin to chuckle again. He must remember, he told himself, to ask Poor Dear Papa, at a suitable moment, for his opinion of Harrowgate.

You were not acquainted with my father, Mr Morville. I have often been sorry that you were not, for you would have been excessively pleased with one another. My father was a great reader, though not, of course, during the hunting-season.

Providence has decreed that he should succeed to his dear father's honours,' pronounced the Dowager, thinking poorly of Providence.

She told her father Mr. Abram Colhard that she did not like it at all being one being living then. He never said anything. She was afraid then, she was one needing charming stories and happy telling of them and not having that thing she was always trembling.

Balance in general is difficult, but I refuse to go through life and just have work and not have good balance. I want to be an example, not only to my own children but also to artists and other entrepreneurs, that you can be a workaholic and also be a good husband and good father.

My father Tom was a workaholic who never missed a single one of my sporting events for nearly two decades, and imparted in me a sense of risk and adventure. Being the one in the middle, I had more room to drift, and after college, I left the U.S. for Chile.

My dad was an insane workaholic, and watching his work ethic gave me a lot of motivation.

I was brought up on a council estate in the countryside near Stoke Prior in Worcestershire, but I adored visiting the farm where my father worked.

My dad worked in a honey factory - we used to call him the honey monster' - and I worked there.

My dad worked for the Fish and Wildlife Service, and he worked for the Department of Interior, you know, like the federal government. And consequently, I was outdoors a lot in my lifetime.

If Obama came by his liberalism in the faculty lounge, then sure, he can see it hasn't worked, and he can modify it. But if Obama got his formative ideas when he was very young, and if they are the result of his traumatic relationship with his father, then they are built into his psyche.

My dad knew I was mad about music. While he worked as a barber he would hear songs on the radio and we'd have endless discussions about them. So I got my first record player when I was 11 years old.

I left school when I was 16; then I worked for my father, who was a welder. And I was a welder for three years, you know, welder of fabrication, metal 'cause it was a big industrial town, Sheffield. It was much steel and coal and stuff like that.

My father is an economist who specialized in foreign food policy, and my mother worked for AID, a branch of the State Department, so food in regards to world affairs was talked about a lot.

I grew up in Southern Oregon. My father was a sawmill worker and a logger, and his job put food on the table.

My father was a psychiatrist and a social worker but he was a very talented painter and musician and writer on the side.

I look at my father, who was in many ways an unhappy person, but who, not long before he got sick, said that the greatest source of satisfaction in his life had been going to work in the company of other workers.

My father was a meat worker. He was a union organizer in the meat workers union.