Best 10031 quotes in «mother quotes» category

When the whole world made me think that, I can't do it, Thanks for making me, believe that, I can do it.

Which one is really my child? The one I brought forth with my own groans who has no liking for the thing I love most in all the world, or the stranger’s child whom fate placed in my life, the one who is absorbing and treasuring every word I give her, whose eyes are learning every day, whom I would love to teach...

Where does repressed pain and rage go in a body? Does the wound of daughter turn to something else if left unattended? Does it bloom in the belly like an anti-child, like an organic mass made of emotions that didn’t have anywhere to go? How do we name the pain of rage in a woman? Mother?

Who's Vanessa?" "I don't believe you. She's only the most popular girl in the whole school." She pointed a finger at the girl in the middle of the three who were still watching Tianna closely. "Everyone knows Vanessa." Vanessa had perfect skin, large blue eyes, and luxurious blond hair that curled over her shoulders. "Are those extensions?" Tianna asked. "All hers." Corrine sighed. Vanessa was dressed in a funky white coat of fake fur that went down to her brown suede boots; underneath was a low-hanging party-girl skirt with two gold belts draped around her tan waist. "Where'd she get the clothes? They're so cool." Tianna glanced self-consciously at her own jeans. The knees were soiled, and there was a long black mark on the side, as if she had skidded in dirt or oil. "Her mom's a costume designer for the movies," Corrine confided. Tianna felt a pang of jealousy- not for the clothes, but from the mention of Vanessa's mother. She wondered where hers was. Why hadn't she been with her this morning?

When we apply the lessons we've struggled for our whole lives to learn to the lives of people we love, our love becomes judgment—which is toxic. Our fear our daughters will fail leads us to fail them.

Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?" Pointing to his disciples, he said, "Here are my mother and my brothers... (Matthew 12:48)

Why were you named Garrett?" she heard him ask. "My mother was convinced that I was going to be a boy. She wanted to name me after one of her brothers, who died while he was still young. But she didn't survive my birth. Above the objections of friends and relations, my father insisted on calling me Garrett anyway." "I like it," Ransom murmured. "It suits me," Garrett said, "although I'm not certain my mother would have approved of giving a masculine name to a daughter." After a reflective pause, she surprised herself by saying impulsively, "Sometimes I imagine going back in time, to stop the hemorrhage that killed her." "Is that why you became a doctor?" Garrett pondered the question with a slight frown. "I've never thought about it that way before. I suppose helping people could be my way of saving her, over and over. But I would have found the study of medicine fascinating regardless. The human body is a remarkable machine.

Without the wetness of your love, The fragrance of your water, Or the trickling sounds of Your voice, I shall always feel thirsty.

With red clay between my toes, and the sun setting over my head, the ghost of my mother blows in, riding on a honeysuckle breeze, oh lord, riding on a honeysuckle breeze.

Why did my mother, a grown woman, get to talk like all her hopes and dreams had been shat on, kicked, and set on fire, all the while pushing me, a mere girl, a child, to do better, to accomplish more, to face down all the odds and become a legend? When was I supposed to complain the way they did? To be validated the way they validated each other?

Women are our mothers, daughters, and sisters; women are our world.

Xavier stares past her with watery eyes. 'Why does the world feel the need to drop its weight upon my shoulders?' he barely whispers. His mother strokes his hair. 'Maybe it believes you can handle it,' she tells him. 'That though it is heavy, you are strong enough to carry it.

Work and happiness are like mother and daughter; work brings forth happiness, but hard work brings forth great happiness!

Women are lot more stronger then men, not just mentally but even physically, not only do they look beautiful in any form, but are also blessed with there caring nature which they have by birth.. What do men need more then this to respect a women??? Handling a family is equivalent to handling a big corporate office.. N she does it very well..Respect her beauty by praising it n don't dis-respect it by passing dirty comments.. Some mentally ill men RAPE a women, but dis-respect every women including there mother n sisters with this act... and cause of such mentally ill men, every man is ashamed of being a Male/Man..

Yet being in the spotlight is also dangerous because a child's success may be construed by a narcissistic mother as competition. In self-defense, a son or daughter may insist that any achievement is a fluke, and any award is undeserved or is really a tribute to their mother. They suppress their own healthy narcissism to please a mother . . they believe any success is a mistake and at any moment they will be "found out" and identified as a fake or a fraud. The mind-set is, "I am succeeding because I can fake excellence, but inside I am not really worthy or not really able." Such self-effacement is common in people who are pressured to excel and also primed to assure others . . . that they are subservient and inferior.

Yes, she was lovely. But more than that, she was warm and funny and loving. Hot-tempered one moment, and laughing the next. And she could make a home anywhere. She carried a sort of security about with her. I can't think of a single person who didn't love her. I still think about her every day of my life. Sometimes she seems very dead. And other times, I can't believe that she isn't somewhere in the house and that a door won't open and she'll be there.

You and I. Hand in hand. An endless story of love. A love that grew in me for 9 months and only grows bigger each day. You and I. Hand in hand. An endless journey. Countless steps. One destination - your happiness. You and I. Hand in hand. My heart and blood. I'll share it all - take it - my whole life is you.

you are as fleetingly beautiful as a mother’s tears and a father’s pranks a brother’s bachelorhood and a best friend’s bad mood a bride’s glittering jitters and a handsome stranger’s smile.

You cannot find peace by avoiding life, you know.” His mother smiled at him and sat across the table, spreading her papers around as if they were a tablecloth made of silken letters.

You are the greatest poem ever written. You are the greatest song ever sung. You are the greatest portrait ever painted. You are the greatest symphony ever composed. You are the greatest act ever performed. You are the greatest masterpiece ever created.

You can't be transcendent,... which will mean to be perfect in everything. You can try to act as such person, but there is a lot of to learn. - As first you always will know the few from everything - Everything is endless! - (The Wolf of Wall Street), forgot everything what people say to you about the topic "Money"...because money are the thing which make your life interesting. You could buy the best phone, the best hotel or the best room, the best house, the best car, the best TV, the best books... the best wife... There are outside a lot of women which will sleep with you in replace of money... so reality you need money to have them... (More far than this I can't take you, because the train is too fast It will delete everything.... <----- it will just start from here.)... What I gonna say or I will say is "Good Luck and try by yourself the finish the mission".

You can take the Indian out of the family, but you cannot take the family out of the Indian.

You don't know what it's like to grow up with a mother who never said a positive thing in her life, not about her children or the world, who was always suspicious, always tearing you down and splitting your dreams straight down the seams. When my first pen pal, Tomoko, stopped writing me after three letters she was the one who laughed: You think someone's going to lose life writing to you? Of course I cried; I was eight and I had already planned that Tomoko and her family would adopt me. My mother of course saw clean into the marrow of those dreams, and laughed. I wouldn't write to you either, she said. She was that kind of mother: who makes you doubt yourself, who would wipe you out if you let her. But I'm not going to pretend either. For a long time I let her say what she wanted about me, and what was worse, for a long time I believed her.

You feel well, Ali? You have a very faraway look on your face, beta,' my dad said. 'Like you have left your heart behind.' He fixed me with eyes as liquid black as mine and for a moment I felt exposed, like he could see right through me. That irrational childhood thought that he could read my mind maybe. 'What nonsense, his heart is here with his mother and his family. Tell him, Ali,' my mother said. 'Begum, this generation of boys and girls, you know how they are.' My dad never said my mother's name; she was always Begum, the generic term for 'wife'.

You just stood up to your mother.... I should think now you could take on the world.

young children, who for whatever reason are deprived of the continuous care and attention of a mother or a substitute-mother, are not only temporarily disturbed by such deprivation, but may in some cases suffer long-term effects which persist Bowlby, J., Ainsworth, M., Boston, M., and Rosenbluth, D. (1956). The effects of mother-child separation: A follow-up study. British Journal of Medical Psychology, 29, 211-249.

You are never old enough to lose your mother.

You could not stop times from changing, his mother said, no more than you could stop the surf from rolling.

You don't need to be primary caregiver of your children to be of primary influence in their lives. What you do for them behind the scenes in your own unique way is what makes the true difference in the long run.

You got a child to feed and a life to get on with.

... you may seek out a partner who psychologically resembles your mother and found that you have walked right back into a difficult relationship. Perhapse you chose to be close to someone who turns out to be as volatile as your mother and who inflicts discomfort all too familiar to you. Or perhaps gradually, over time, your partner or close friend becomes like your mother; that may be because you unconsciously behave in ways that encourage others to treat you as your mother did.

You mean to say that after all you are really going to be the kind of woman who the baker won't let near the bread?

You need to call on your best and strongest self.

Your first teacher is your mother; the second is people; the third is life; and the fourth is God.

Your father you esteem. Your mother you pamper. Your relatives you regard. Your friends you value. Your neighbors you respect. Your enemies you pardon.

Your mother gave birth to a human. Don't prove her wrong.

Your identity should not be fully defined by what you do, by being a manager, a wife, a mother of children or a computer programmer

Your mother just carried you literally. The one who really gave you to her is the one who really knows about the main problem you were meant to solve!

your mother is the longest magic show you will ever see no one knows how her face is target practice for her partner and a shield for her children how she makes a mouthful of blood disappear erases bruises hardens teeth how she wakes up and dresses her children before dressing her wounds

Your mother wasn’t upset. “Scars stay with you so you don’t forget,” she said. She seemed almost satisfied.

Your daughter's coming of age, you ought to let her see the world a little.

1.5 billion people lack proper access to electricity. Many buy kerosene, which can cost 30 percent of their income. It sends millions of metric tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere every year. And often the lamp will fall over and catch the house on fire. So mothers hate it, but it's their only option.

17,000 children starve on this planet every single day. That fact alone should blow any conscious person out of their chair. You know, my mother used to say that a woman’s most important job is taking care of her children and her home. I laughed at that when I was younger, but I don’t laugh at it anymore. I just realize now that every child on the planet is one of our children, and the earth itself is our home.

You spend the beginning part of your life with your mother, so love her; the middle part of your life with your girlfriend, so care for her; and the end part of your life with your wife, so adore her.

8.45 a.m. My mother is in the hospital grounds smoking a cigarette. She is looking old and haggard. All the debauchery is catching up with her.

A baby's mother also needs a mother.

A baby is a very heavy thing, any mother will tell you.

A baby nursing at a mother's breast... is an undeniable affirmation of our rootedness in nature.

A baby was sleeping, Its mother was weeping.

A babe, by intercourse of touch I held mute dialogues with my Mother's heart.