Quotes About Father

John's heart was hardened against the Lord. His father was God's minister, the ambassador of the King of Heaven, and John could not bow before the throne of grace without first kneeling to his father.

And then, again, I was undergoing with my father what the very young inevitability undergo with their elders: I was beginning to judge him. And the very harshness of this judgement, which broke my heart, revealed, though I could not have said it then, how much I had loved him, how that love, along with my innocence, was dying.

And I also felt, standing so close to him, feeling such a passion to keep him from terror, that a decision—once again!—had been taken from my hands. For neither my father nor Hella was real at that moment. And yet even this was not as real as my despairing sense that nothing was real for me, nothing would ever be real for me again—unless, indeed, this sensation of falling was reality.

He did not wonder. He had once told Esther that if the Lord ever gave him a son he would call him Royal, because the line of the faithful was a royal line — his son would be a royal child. And this she had remembered as she thrust him from her; with what had perhaps been her last breath she had mocked him and his father with this name. She had died, then, hating him; she had carried into eternity a curse on him and his.

He stared in a dull paralysis of terror at the body of Elisha. He saw him standing - had Elisha forgotten? - beside Ella Mae before the altar while Father James rebuked him for the evil that lived in the flesh. He looked into Elisha's face, full of questions he would never ask. And Elisha's face told him nothing.

He had been been patting his handkerchief between his palms; now he opened his handkerchief and reached out and wiped my forehead. You're all I've got, he said then, with a shy, pained grin. Be careful. Daddy, I said. And began to cry. And if speaking had been agony, this was worse and yet I could not stop. And my father's face changed. It became terribly old and at the same time absolutely helplessly young ... Don't cry, he said, don't cry.

Then John knew that a curse was renewed from moment to moment, from father to son. Time was indifferent, like snow and ice; but the heart, crazed wanderer in the driving waste, carried the curse forever.

Quelqu'un, dit Jacques, mon père ou le tien, aurait dû nous dire que peu de gens sont jamais morts d'amour. Mais combien ont péri, et continuent à périr à toute heure, et dans les endroits les plus étranges ! par manque d'amour.

The fear that I heard in my father's voice, for example, when he realized that I really believed I could do anything a white boy could do, and had every intention of proving it, was not at all like the fear I heard when one of us was ill or had fallen down

p.92) I felt very close to him, and really wished to be able to love and honor him as a witness, an ally, and a father. I felt that I knew something of his pain and fury, and, yes even his beauty. Yet precisely because of the reality and the nature of those streets - because of what he conceived as his responsibility and what I took to be min - we would always be strangers, and possibly one day, enemies.

She had known his father when lightning flashed and thunder rolled through Heaven, and his father said: 'Listen. God is talking.' She had known him in the mornings of that far-off country when his father turned on his bed and opened his eyes, and she had looked into those eyes, seeing what they held, and she had not been afraid.

His dad asked Bud what the decorations meant. All the Samuel B. Roberts survivor could say in reply was they meant that he had not dishonored his mother.

Snow began to fall as he laid his head on the ice and cried. Alone in a Currier & Ives painting, beside a Victorian gazebo adorned with colorful Christmas lights, Bob Cole lost his only son.

My father started out as a musician but he had a salary from a day job working as a health inspector for the government. When he left to set up his own entertainment agency his income became more uncertain.

My uncle was a second father to me. I spent most of my childhood with him.

A family holiday to Jamaica in 2004 - my uncle was getting married out there, and it was the first holiday I'd had in Jamaica, which is where my father is from. My friends and I stayed in a really plush hotel, The Ritz-Carlton, so we had a great experience.

It was more my uncle - my mom's brother - and my aunt who turned me on to hoops. He was more into basketball and he'd take me to Raptors games. And then my dad started taking me with him. And I started falling in love with the game.

With my father and uncle so involved in racing, it was the only thing I ever knew, so I'm sure that had a huge influence on me. However, my father had more influence on me just by the way he lived, because the way he was at the racetrack was the way he was in everyday life.

As a player, I'm a combination of my father and my uncle. People back home say that they were such good players and that I remind them of them both.

My uncle was a hero, Lewis Roundtree. He was not even related to me really, but he was always called my uncle. He was like a father to me. I was closer to him than I was my father.

I spent a lot of time on farms when I was young. My uncle and my dad owned a big farm.

The drive was brief and the conversation limited, but oh, what a legacy of love! Father never read to me from the Bible about the good Samaritan. Rather, he took me with him and Uncle Elias in that old 1928 Oldsmobile and provided a living lesson I have always remembered.

I didn't know until later, but my uncle was quite a famous bohemian in Glasgow, and he played guitar. My father was a kind of a poetic bohemian, and he read me poetry.

Back home, I find small towns very peaceful. When my father and uncle were still in the film business, we had a tradition of travelling to the temple town of Srisailam to screen every film before its release. I still go there often.