Quotes About Birth

9In the same way I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born," says the LORD.

When a wrong wants righting, or a truth wants preaching, or a continent wants opening, God sends a baby into the world to do it. And where do you find God on Christmas? In a manger. A baby was born at the heart of the Roman Empire, that when the Roman Empire would crumble and fall, that baby, who would become a man, would also become a Savior of the world.

Probably all babies, having recently been nothing, have a tenuous hold on life.

If other planets dark as earth About dim trembling stars Carry frail freight of death and birth, Wild love, and endless wars; If from far, unseen motes in flight Life look down questioning This helpless passage through the night Is a less lonely thing:

My tears were not for Bailey or Mother or even myself but for the helplessness of mortals who love on the sufferance of Life. In order to avoid this bitter end, we would all have to be born again, and born with the knowledge of alternatives. Even then?

One isn't necessarily born with courage, but one is born with potential. Without courage, we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency. We can't be kind, true, merciful, generous, or honest.

After a short labor, and without too much pain (I decided that the pain of delivery was overrated), my son was born.

Midwives and winding sheets know birthing is hard and dying is mean and living's a trial in between. Why do we journey, muttering like rumors among the stars? Is a dimension lost? Is it love?

Uneasy sleeper you will live to see the city of your birth pulled down to the last stone.

As if I would EVER give birth. I suppose a well-mannered little six-year-old would be all right, but they simply don't COME that way. You have to TRAIN them. Too tiresome. I can understand your anguish.

the baby got born all right and left it in a safe place, where someone decent would find it—people who go to libraries are all smart, you know—civic-minded? People who read books are found to be more empathetic than those who don't. They have some idea, at least, of how to raise a kid.

What would you do if you were King's Thief, Gen? Chew with your mouth open in the royal presence? Chat with the court ladies, dropping the h's at the beginning of your words and garbling the ends of most of them? Everything about you reveals your low birth. You'd never be comfortable at the court.

We are all meant to be mothers of God...for God is always needing to be born.

There was no record of Allegra being allowed to bear a daughter in this cycle. So the mere fact that you were born was already a violation. From birth she had been a mistake, Schuyler thought. Her mother that still, silent figure in the hospital bed... why did she choose to have me? Schuyler wondered

Why us? How did we luck into this life? How is that fair? To be born into a life without a choice in the matter, without the freedom to be anyone else?

The reasons for bearing young should simply be love and respect for the incipient child, and for the world they will be born into. If it took more effort to produce a child than the exercise of a moment's lust, perhaps there might be less misery in this world. Perhaps my gryphons will be happier creatures than their creator.

The puckered-up face of the newly-born child, old as the world, wise as the roots of trees. Sin was there and goodness, love, pity and horror, and even beauty for his eyes were pure violet.

Ed Amies, one of my oldest and closest friends, told my simply that: "So often, God's callings have a birth, a death, and then a resurrection." I had had the birth, and had got stuck into Selection; I had had the death, at that fateful dam in the Welsh mountains--now was a logical time for the resurrection. If my faith stood for anything it was this: miracles really can happen.

Population growing, swelling, bursting beyond the capability of the world to sustain so many human beings. Six billion people. Eight. Ten. Most of them starving, diseased, born in miserable poverty and dying in miserable poverty; surviving only long enough to make still more babies, half a million more each day.

Christmas is the birth of our Saviour, McCluskey remarked. That must mean something, surely. The bastard never saved me. Maybe he hasn't finished with you yet.

And you look bloody young to be a sergeant I was born late, sir

The world began in chaos and it will end in chaos. The gods brought the world into existence, and they will end it when they fight among themselves, but in between the chaos of the world's birth and the chaos of the world's death is order, and order is made by oaths, and oaths bind us like the buckles of a harness.

Poor Uther. He believed that virtues are handed down through a man's loins! What nonsense! A child is like a calf; if the thing is born crippled you knock it smartly on the skull and serve the cow again. That's why the Gods made it such a pleasure to engender children, because so many of the little brutes have to be replaced. There's not much pleasure in the process for women, of course, but someone has to suffer and thank the Gods it's them and not us.

I forget your name, I said. Most people spew shit from their arse, he retorted, you manage it with your mouth. Your mother gave birth through her arse, I said, and you still reek of her shit.