Quotes About Father

I lived in a town of 400 until I was like nine or ten. My dad coached all the sports - he was a gym teacher and health teacher for grades K-12.

No true...father would be unconcerned about discord in his family that may cause it to disintegrate in his absence... "

Nothing crushes the soul of a father more than the loss of the beloved son he failed to lavish his love on."

I'm very close to my dad. He's about six inches away right now and snoring in my ears.

I remember my dad working with me on breaking down my script and writing out a back story for my character and all that stuff.

But my daddy always said that story was a fish tale. That was his way of describing a trumped-up story, like a whopper

A mustache really defines your face. My dad had a mustache when I was growing up, and I can still remember when he shaved it, he looked like a completely different person.

Our attentiveness to the Father is equally as important as the Father's attentiveness to us.

The marriage seemed to flourish on Father's extended absences. " Ragtime

Poor Father, I see his final exploration. He arrives at the new place, his hair risen in astonishment, his mouth and eyes dumb. His toe scuffs a soft storm of sand, he kneels and his arms spread in pantomimic celebration, the immigrant, as in every moment of his life, arriving eternally on the shore of his Self.

A woman who in childhood was physically abused by her father may find that her pain-body becomes easily activated in any close relationship with a man. Alternatively, the emotion that makes up her pain-body may draw her to a man whose pain-body is similar to that of her father. Her pain-body may feel a magnetic pull to someone who it senses will give it more of the same pain. That pain is sometimes misinterpreted as falling in love.

Why does The Sheik, my father, not love me, too?

I am like my father—witless in matters of the heart, and of a poor way with women; yet the jewels that strew these royal garden paths—the trees, the flowers, the sward—all must have read the love that has filled my heart since first my eyes were made new by imaging your perfect face and form; so how could you alone have been blind to it?

Should I come to you, Father, with anything that made me ashamed? What do I matter? What's honour to me? My honour is to keep her from harm and from grief. I have no other; I want none.

I knelt by the design. Yes, there was the sun rising. But the white form I had always thought to be a cloud was a bear. I could see it now, upside down. White bear, isbjorn, stood for north. Father had not been able to help himself. The truth was there, too. Truth and lie, side by side.

All the girls feared their Father less than they did their Mother, because she sometimes remembered things and he did not. Lord Brightlingsea was swept through life on a steady amnesiac flow.

His father's death, and the misfortunes following it, had put a premature end to Ethan's studies; but though they had not gone far enough to be of much practical use they had fed his fancy and made him aware of huge cloudy meanings behind the daily face of things.

Horses are the ruination of everyone, your father has a craze for them but then we all do crazy things.

A mother with an infant but without a father was not welcomed in the new world. "You kilt it." "She kilt it." "I had no milk for it," she answered back.

whose father was Aeolus, god of the winds, and whose mother was a Caledonian nymph … As soon as he was fully grown his father taught him the secret of catching the wind in balloons.

he united the virtues of a king, a hero, and a man; that his martial spirit was tempered by the love of private and public justice; and that Louis was the father of his people, the friend of his neighbors, and the terror of the infidels.

Each night Father fills me with dread When he sits on the foot of my bed; I'd not mind that he speaks In gibbers and squeaks, But for seventeen years he's been dead.

This was it, the big moment: the corpse of his chief enemy, the ruins of his creator, the body of his dead father; the great weight of all that was unsaid and would never have been said; the pressure to say it now, when there was nobody to hear, and to speak also on his father's behalf, in an act of self-division that might fissure the world and turn his body into a jigsaw puzzle. This was it.

Talking of 'letting go of a lot of stuff,' his father handed the phrase back to Seamus, held by the corner like someone else's used handkerchief....