Quotes About Father

My father was an amazing guy. Twenty years in the Navy, great father.

When he was twenty-three or twenty-four my father began to learn German and read philosophy in his spare hours, which did not look as though he were destined to remain long on board ship!

I think there is a heritage which I'm proud of, which is a fight for democracy, a fight for social justice, a fight for freedom. My grandfather went to jail or exile six times in his life, fighting for his principles for democracy, or for his country. And my father twice.

My big brother used to come home drunk and he'd clash with my dad and I just didn't want that.

I follow after my father, who likes to protect mankind, and I really don't want to see a bunch of demons eating people. Call me sentimental. (Kat)

My father cared about the world he lived in, and so he admitted his confusion about his place in America because he didn't want me to make the same mistake in my life.

Each father wants their sons to be just like them, really.

I'm soooo happy you're my Dad And soooo I want to say I love you, Dad, and wish you A sooo very best birthday

On the first day of school, my father told me I'd be the most popular girl and everyone would love me and want to be my friend. It wasn't so, but it gave me an enormous amount of confidence.

The thing that is my main focus is my family. More than anything, I want to be a good husband to my wife and a good father to my kids.

When I was growing up, there was always somebody who wanted to pick a fight with me. I'd say, I'm not a famous boxer, my father is. If you want to fight somebody, go fight my Dad.

Warfare is the father of all good things, it is also the father of good prose!

Society has arisen out of the works of peace; the essence of society is peacemaking. Peace and not war is the father of all things.

What, at peace with the Father and at war with the children? It cannot be.

Cal 's eyes reflected a weird combination of frenzy and fear as he twisted toward his father. "My God! She's on her way to becoming the most famous physicist in the country, and she's dumb as a post ! You are not having your baby in this house! You're having it at the county hospital!

Come on," said Papa. "Let's go home.

Harding's ashes were mistakenly sent to a John Harding in Oregon, who does have a relative by that name, but it was not this one. Thinking that the ashes belonged to his estranged biological father, he spread them in the most serene places in Oregon and Alaska, only to find that they were not the ashes of his biological father, but those of a monster.

Hugh had led men into battle with success and was on reasonably good terms with the king, though they would never be intimates; in any case, his father had been so close to his king that this would probably have to suffice for whole generations of Dipensers.

He saw the Queen and saw her for the first time with the mask of friendship removed, a figure suddenly as ruthless and terrible as ever her father had been... All their dazzling intimacy was an illusion, a mere straw in the wind, for in the last resort he was but a subject, as her mother had been.

It seemed very hard, when his father fought to protect the Union and our flag, and yet his boy was denied, under this same flag, a berth to carry him home to die, because he was a negro.

He was a mostly mild man with a weakness for passion, a suburban father burdened with the heart of a Russian hero without any sort of balancing grand intellect or ironic world view. The yearning itself, the recklessness, that's what lured him.

To the everlasting credit of the people of District 12, not one person claps. Not even the ones holding betting slips, the ones who are usually beyond caring. Possibly because they know me from the Hob, or knew my father, or have encountered Prim, who no one could help loving. So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence. Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong.

I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips. I remember my father doing this very thing to my mother and I wonder where Peeta picked it up. Surely, not from his father and the witch.

Not everyone is treated with such respect. But whenever my father sang, all the birds in the area would fall silent and listen. His voice was beautiful, high and clear and so filled with life it made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.