Quotes About Heritage

What is a nation without a mother tongue?

On Easter or Christmas Day, my mother might drag me to church, just as she dragged me to the Buddhist temple, the Chinese New Year celebration, the Shinto shrine, and ancient Hawaiian burial sites.

Anthony's father was a mad baronet and his mother a very beautiful woman. That's Anthony-half mad baronet, half beautiful woman.

I grew up in the kitchen, mostly with my grandfather, my mother and my aunt Raffy.

I was born by myself but carry the spirit and blood of my father, mother and my ancestors. So I am really never alone. My identity is through that line.

Cooking certain dishes, like roast pork, reminds me of my mother.

She's descended from a long line her mother listened to.

I inherited depression from my mother's side of the family.

On October 28th, 1887, I became the mother of a girl baby, the very image of its father, at least that is what he said, but who has the temper of its mother.

You want a lesson? I'll give you a lesson. How about a geography lesson? My father's from Puerto Rico. My mother's from El Salvador. And neither one of those is Mexico.

If the English educated neglect, as they have done and even now continue, as some do, to be ignorant of their mother tongue, linguistic starvation will abide.

As to my political faith- I have never voted. My father was a Democrat, my mother a Republican, and I am an Episcopalian.

If I have done anything in life worth attention, I feel sure that I inherited the disposition from my mother.

All Americans believe that they are born fishermen. For a man to admit a distaste for fishing would be like denouncing mother-love or hating moonlight.

My mother was an immigrant from Lebanon to the United States. She came when she was 18 years old in 1920.

My father! The sun is my father, and the earth is my mother, and on her bosom I will recline.

My mother is Irish, my father is black and Venezuelan, and me - I'm tan, I guess.

Fashion is in my blood. Growing up, I was always clacking around the house in my mother's shoes.

My father is Swedish and my mother is French.

I think that people assumed I was white because of my last name. My father is Caucasian, my mother is Hispanic. But English was my second language, believe it or not.

All that remains is the faces and the names of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

There's no more important bonding thing than a mother doing the daughter's hair. We sit at our mother's knee and learn who we are.

I have my mother who is an Irish-Italian, and my father who is African, so I have the taste buds of an Italian and the spice of an African.

My father was the Formica King of Long Island, and my mother was the daughter of a Bengal Lancer in India.