Quotes About Papa

Calling Batman 'the Dark Knight' is like calling Papa Smurf 'the Blue Patriarch':you're not fooling anyone.

Wise children always choose a mother who was a shocking flirt in her maiden days, and so had several offers before she accepted their fortunate papa.

Dream language is a love language. Our dreams are love letters sent to us from Papa God. When our guard is down and our analytical skepticism is less active, God whispers in our ear.

Directly after God in heaven comes a Papa.

As I left I heard Ramses say, 'May I remark, Papa, dat alt'ough your consideration for my sensitivities was quite unnecessary, I am not without a proper appreciation of de sentiment dat prompted it.

Papa grabbed my ten-dollar bill as if it were already twenty shots of bourbon

And shall I tell you something else, papa, now that we're talking at last? It was fine. I was fine. Because what was I doing, really, that ten million other girls don't do every night, only they don't have the sense to get paid for it? That was decadent. This was business – kapitalism – and it was fine, and it was like you said, I only had one friend: myself.

'Healing, ' Papa would tell me, 'is not a science, but the intuitive art of wooing nature.'

I'm going to see you now Papa… you better run...

Bright colors don't exist in the ghetto, except for the yellow stars and puddles of red blood that we carefully step around. "More shootings," Papa says quietly. His face is gray.

He had orders to demolish the whole ghetto, and he and his men were doing so, when he flew over the courtyard. And guess what? The spotlight on his plane shone down and he saw…" Papa pauses. We all lean in to hear more. "He saw our yellow stars!

Syvia," says Papa, "it is the Russians." Liberation

You look very handsome, Papa, I say. The twinkle is back in his eyes. Smoke and mirrors, he says with a wink. Smoke and mirrors.

Don't ever be sorry for that. Weren't we lucky that Papa thought so quickly and found the pictures? And weren't we lucky that Lise had dark hair when she was a baby? It turned blond later on, when she was two or so." "In between," Papa added, "she was bald for a while!" Ellen and Annemarie both smiled tentatively. For a moment their fear was eased.

My first words was thug for life and papa pass the mack

Papa says curses are only stories cooked up to deter thieves. He says there are sixty-five million specimens in this place, and if you have the right teacher, each can be as interesting as the last.

When French troops entered Paris in August, 1944, Papa came in from Rambouillet and first liberated the Explorers' club. But his major objective was the Ritz. He came in and assured security, making sure nobody else could get to the wine cellar.

And except for Francesca taking up with a rooster up the street—who knew chickens were such popular pets?—and leaving little chicks all over the backyard for a change. Last Claire heard—which was this morning—little Luigi and Sergio were learning to crow just like their papa. And doing much too fine a job of it, as Claire had been awake since daybreak.

Lo que, detalle simpático, valió a nuestra reina esta elegante definición del papa Pío Nono: Es puta, pero piadosa. Lo que sitúa el asunto en su contexto.

After eyeing her for a moment or two, he said: 'If you let this chance of achieving a respectable alliance slip, you are a bigger fool than I take you for, Hester!' Her eyes came round to his face, a smile quivered for an instant on her lips. 'No, how could that be, Papa?

I... He struggled to answer. When everything was quiet, I went up to the corridor and the curtain in the livingroom was open just a crack... I could see outside. I watched, only for a few seconds. He had not seen the outside world for twenty-two months. There was no anger or reproach. It was Papa who spoke. How did it look? Max lifted his head, with great sorrow and great astonishment. There were stars, he said. They burned by eyes.

Sometimes she sat against the wall, longing for the warm finger of paint to wander just once more down the side of her nose, or to watch the sandpaper texture of her papa's hands. If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter and bread with only the scent of jam spread out on top of it. It was the best time of her life.

A small sample of some girl-written words That summer was a new beginning, a new end. When I look back, I remember my slippery hands of paint and the sound of Papa's feet on Munich Street, and I know that a small piece of the summer of 1942 belonged to only one man. Who else would do some paintwork for the price of half a cigarette? That was Papa, that was typical, and I loved him.

She looks up. She speaks in a whisper. 'The sky is soft today, Max. The clouds are so soft and sad, and...' She looks away and crosses her arms. She thinks of her papa going to war and grabs her jacket at each side of her body. 'And it's cold, Max. It's so cold...