Quotes About Ancestry

My Native American heritage was not embraced by our family, and we grew up African-American, so I didn't have a lot of access or history to that line of my family.

I'm tri-racial: African-American, Native American and Euro - that's the Scotch-Irish part.

I have Native American blood. I have African blood. I have European blood.

Through the years, I found we had Native American blood in us. My great-grandmother came from the island of Martinique, and they hooked up with the Native Americans of Louisiana.

One's native land! There should one live! There die!

We developed a capacity for language 50,000 to 100,000 years ago . The first modern humans began migrating out of Africa as much as 120,000 years ago . Once upon a time , almost all of us lived in Africa . And we were all black .

How was she going to tell him her family came from a long line of powerful women who drew power from the universe around them and that prophecies several hundreds of years old always came true?

And whence do you hail?" "From Bonking, sire." "Well, yes, lad, as do we all," said Lear, "but from what town?

from whence you come.

Root of a tree, fruit of a vine, let me pass by this blood of mine.

My only inheritance.

artifacts of her race that made him cringe

Mauricio viene de Moisés, Isidoro de Isaac, Eduardo de Arón, Jaime de Jacob y Alfonso de Adán…

I remembered one of the many stories about him: some impudent young Parisian had made a malicious reference in his presence to the latest theories suggesting a link between primitive man and lower species. Dumas replied: "Yes, sir, I do indeed come from the monkey. But you, sir, are returning to one!

Gustaba a napolitanos y sicilianos, mestizos también ellos, no por error de una madre pelleja sino por historia de generaciones, nacidos de cruces de levantinos desleales, árabes sudorientos y ostrogodos degenerados, que tomaron lo peor de cada uno de sus híbridos antepasados: de los sarracenos, la indolencia; de los suabos, la ferocidad; de los griegos, la infructuosidad y el gusto de perderse en charlas con tal de dividir un pelo en cuatro.

The contents of someone's bookcase are part of their history, like an ancestral portrait.

For two thousand years the Jews had been scattered over the old Continent like thistledown in the wind; and the most carefully tended family trees don't always show what pollen has fallen upon them.

She was, as Lanny had told Esther, a true granddaughter of the Puritans. Her forefathers had sailed in a tiny vessel across a turbulent sea and landed on a cold, inhospitable coast; they had risked their lives for the sake of freedom of conscience. Now Bess was ready to give her happiness for the sake of this new religion which despised religion but which manifested all the symptoms and practiced all the zealotry of those who had received a revelation direct from God.

It was the "leisure-class" world, and the people in it were proud of the fact that they had never done and didn't know how to do anything useful. The farther back they could trace an ancestry which had never done it, the more distinguished they were.

Anand, look at the back of my hands. No hair. The sign of an advanced race, boy. And look at yours. No hair either. But you never know. With some of your mother's bad blood flowing in your veins you could wake up one morning and find yourself hairy like a monkey

Neither my father nor grandfather could put dates to their stories. Not because they had forgotten or were confused; the past was simply the past.

Neither my father nor grandfather could put dates to their stories. Not because they had forgotten or were confused; the past was simply the past. I remember hearing from my grandfather that he had once shipped a boatful of slaves as a cargo of rubber. He couldn't tell me when he had done this. It was just there in his memory, floating around, without date or other association, as an unusual event in an uneventful life.

More than England to the British West Indian or even Holland to the Surinamer, France is the mother country to the Martiniquan.

When we had come no one could tell me. We were not that kind of people. We simply lived; we did what was expected of us, what we had seen the previous generation do. We never asked why; we never recorded. We felt in our bones that we were a very old people; but we seemed to have no means of gauging the passing of time. Neither my father nor my grandfatehr could put dates to their stories. Not because they had forgotten or were confused; the past was simply the past.