Quotes About Responsibility

You have to take responsibility and become the architect of your own success by learning what it takes to navigate the twists and turns of a long career, because if you don't take responsibility for your own success, nothing will happen.

She sighed. Children were a bind really. You loved them but they never seemed to be out of your life. Wherever they were they demanded your time and energy.

It was funny, but even though the kids lived their own lives and she was useless in her efforts to help them any more, she still couldn't sleep until they were all in. Safe and sound.

The future was eventually all about what you had really done, not what you wished you had done.

She had held them together with the sheer force of her will and her overpowering love. What would happen to them all now? Who would keep them all together, make sure they didn't fall apart, didn't rake up the past and cause murders?

Catholic guilt was the most destructive sort of guilt because the person that it concerned had no real concept of it. They didn't even realise that it existed. Catholic guilt was something that grew alongside the person, alongside their personality and, in many ways, it did them some good. They felt the need to help the less fortunate, and they felt the urge to make their children better than they were.

Walking away was easy, it was staying around and sorting out your own shit that took guts, that made you a man.

His mother had always said, 'We are all guilty of something even if it is only laziness or ignorance.' He had never understood what she meant till now.

When your children are young they tread on your feet. When they get older they tread on your heart!

expected good church attendance from

Oscar Wilde said that youth was wasted on the young, and he was right. When you were young you wasted not only your own life, but usually someone else's as well.

Always fighting, arguing, and mouthing off to teachers and other pupils alike. But it was never her fault, it was always someone else's fault.

Why did people feel like this nowadays? Why were they so scared of chastising their kids, of making them listen to reason, explaining that what they were doing was wrong? Mary had not felt for a long time that she was in a position to offer her advice and she wondered when the children, the youngest members of the family, had suddenly acquired so much power that they were more or less laws unto themselves.

Once things were said out loud, they could never be taken back. They were out there for ever.

there was just a game. They had killed someone and they thought it was funny. How had she allowed that to happen? How had

Glad that if nothing else he had learned one thing. You couldn't protect your kids properly until you understood exactly what you were supposed to be protecting them from.

His mother had pointed out that the attack with the axe was no more than she would have done herself for her own children. That a mother would protect her young because, with good fathers being few and far between, the only person a child could really count on was the woman who had grown them, birthed them and nurtured them. Now, here he was, confronting someone who, at any other time, he would feel honour-bound to help carry her shopping home.

They didn't mean that the sins a parent might commit would be visited on their offspring. The words actually meant that the mistakes a parent made while they were bringing up their children would be visited on the second, the third, even the fourth generation.

Life's a big present from God but what you do with it is up to you. You get one crack at it, it's not a dress rehearsal as me mother used to say.

Your name was the only thing you ever really owned, for good or for bad; that choice was yours.

People only do to you what you let them.

Your children were given to you and you had to protect them as best you could. It was as simple as that.

You have a blank piece of paper, Glenford, and what you eventually write on it is of your own doing. Good or bad, you have to decide for yourself.

A man could love a woman but she would never be his be-all and end-all, though a clever man might let her think she was, of course. But nature would always out. The mother of the main children must be taken care of at all costs and a man had to know that any children he was bringing up were his own. No cuckoos in the fucking nest to grow and betray you at some point. You had to be careful.