Quotes About Father

It was not just the prodigal in the far-off country who squandered the love of the father; the older brother lost out as well, though he was close to the father's love.

Memories, as my father once said, are porcupines. To hell with them! Stay away from them! They make you unhappy. They ruin your work. They make you cry

Because sometimes the Church seems like those posed circus tableaus where the curtain lifts and men, white, zinc-oxide, talcum-powder statues, freeze to represent abstract Beauty. Very wonderful. But I hope there will always be room for me to dart about among the statues, don't you, Father Stone?

And the odd think in Dad's voice was the sound truth makes being said.

When they reached her house all its lights were blazing. What's going on? Montag had rarely seen that many house lights. Oh, just my mother father and uncle sitting around, talking. It's like being a pedestrian, only rarer. My uncle was arrested another time--did I tell you?--for being a pedestrian. Oh, we're MOST peculiar.

Look for bees," said Father. "Bees hang around grapes like boys around kitchens, Doug?

Oh, Dad. I never knew you. I sure know you now.

But what father ever really believes it? He carries no burden, he feels no pain. What man, like woman, lies down in darkness and gets up with child?

Framed through the hall door Will saw the only theater he cared for now, the familiar stage where sat his father (home already! he and Jim must have run the long way round!) holding a book but reading the empty spaces. In a chair by the fire mother knitted and hummed like a tea-kettle.

And the odd thing in Dad's voice was the sound truth makes being said.

I'd be damn p-p-p-proud, he said, of a f-father like Martin Hopper. The girl tossed her head with disdain. That's just your trouble, Douglas Hyde. What do you mean? he bristled angrily. You know he's a phony, she answered coldly. You've told me so yourself. And yet, in a pinch, you defend him. The two stared at each other—blonde against dark—in absolute opposition.

Jim's father possessed such certain knowledge of the Unknowable as made for the righteousness of people in cottages without disturbing the ease of mind of those whom an unerring Providence enables to live in mansions.

at him I seemed to see again the other one—the father, cast out

Imagination, the enemy of men, the father of all terrors.

are accomplished in a blessed, warm mental fog, which the pitiless cold blasts of the father's analysis had blown away from the son.

On weekends his idea of rest was to read military history aloud to his daughters.

Major Major's father had a good joke about opportunity. Opportunity only knocks once in this world, he would say. Major Major's father repeated this good joke at every opportunity.

Major Major's father was a sober God-fearing man whose idea of a good joke was to lie about his age. He was a long-limbed farmer, a God-fearing, freedom-loving, law-abiding rugged individualist who held that federal aid to anyone but farmers was creeping socialism. He advocated thrift and hard work and disapproved of loose women who turned him down.

Major Major's father was a sober God-fearing man whose idea of a good joke was to lie about his age. He was a long-limbed farmer, a God-fearing, freedom-loving, law-abiding rugged individualist who held that federal aid to anyone but farmers was creeping socialism. He advocated thrift and hard work and disapproved of loose women who turned him down.

Major Major's father had a Calvinist's faith in predestination and could perceive distinctly how everyone's misfortunes but his own were expressions of God's will.

After all, what is a liver? My father, for example, died of cancer of the liver and was never sick a day in his life up till the moment it killed him. Never felt a twinge of pain. In a way, that was too bad, since I hated my father. Lust for my mother, you know.

Gold's father was five feet two and subject to unexpected attacks of wisdom. 'Make money!' he might shout suddenly, apropos of nothing, and his stepmother would add liturgically, 'You should all listen to your father.'   

Where there must be a choice, a girl will choose Daddy. Even if you are Mommy, you concede that this must be so: you remember when you were a girl, too.

In our household, which was essentially under an evil spell, my father 'Chaplin' was all the magic. A great man draws magic into himself, like reverse lightning. There's nothing to spare for anyone else.