Quotes About Father

I can confirm by a modern dream the element of prognosis (or precognition) that can be found in an old dream quoted by Artemidorus of Daldis, in the second century A.D.: A man dreamed that he saw his father die in the flames of a house on fire. Not long afterward, he himself died in a phlegmone (fire, or high fever), which I presume was pneumonia.

The resemblance between the Prometheus of "Pandora" and the Prometheus of Spitteler ends here. He is merely a collective itch for action, so one-sided that it amounts to a repression of eroticism. His son Phileros ('lover of Eros') is simply erotic passion; for, as the son of his father, he must, as is often the case with children, re-enact under unconscious compulsion the unlived lives of his parents.

The relationship between a father and his daughters, Joe had discovered, was a remarkably powerful thing. They looked to him to accomplish greatness; they expected it as a matter of course because he was their dad and therefore a great man.

She lay brooding in the dark for hours. Occasionally, she could hear a whoop or laugh from the direction of the campfire. Danielle's breathing got deeper and she slept the sleep of the dead and Gracie wished she'd gotten that snake from Dakota. She'd never hated her father before.

The last time he'd gone to see his father he had to introduce himself as his son. His father had said, "Joe? Joe Schmoe? Go get me a flask, Joe Schmoe.

If Willie hadn't known the man working on the doghouse in the garage must be his father, he might not have recognized him. Dad's nose was red from the cold, and he was wearing a grease-streaked red-and-black-checked lumberman's jacket and a red flannel hat with floppy earflaps. He looked a lot more dignified in a business suit and tie, Willie thought.

As a father, teaching his kids an important lesson about embracing life beyond the screen was far more important than faster typing.

How does the world look, I often found myself wondering, to a young man whose father is his enemy?

But the scent of my father's hate could not be washed entirely away. It clung to my skin, a faint rotten spell.

But I am not the true thief, father. You have robbed yourself. You have no peace because you cling to sorrow and anger. You have no peace because you do not mourn.

I will make many mistakes, have many regrets, take many risks, but I will not do what my father did. I will not turn my back on love.

The truth wouldn't set me free. I'd only end up like my father.

He sat in his father's cracked brown leather swivel chair. The Judge used to sit here night after night, law books open before him, and his big fountain pen in his hand. He scribbled notes in yellow legal pads.

One of my earliest memories is of my father carrying me in one arm with a picket sign in the other.

I think a young woman's relationship with her father is really important.

I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours —Abraham Lincoln

His parents saw him as their savior, Martha Plimpton observed. And treated him like the father.

with a goofy-looking bald baby on the cover. Dad disappeared

They darn socks too?" "Yes, as a matter of fact. Do a better job than your mom too. Though don't you dare tell her I said that." "Murderers outsew my mother?" "Apparently so." My dad laughs.

My dad's an electrician, for Pete's sake.

J.C.'s friends sometimes wondered why her father was making all that noise. J.C. told them not to worry. That was just her father at work.

Don't worry—my phone is password-protected Ed. Note: Dad's password=7734

John said: "Your father is dead." And I said: "Thank God." John

Make them imagine repentance more like an appearance in court before a cranky old judge, less like a child knocking on his father's study door to have a chat.