Family Quotes - Page 20

…what else do we have to ensure our sanity except our love for something beyond ourselves―our love for our families, our love for our fatherland?

God knew that children grow and mature best in a stable, loving family, and this was one reason He gave marriage to us.

They're the perfect loving fam'ly, so adoring...And I love them ev'ry day of ev'ry week.So my son's a little shit, my husband's boring,And my daughter, though a genius, is a freak.

I know I can't tell you what it's like to be gay. But I can tell you what it's not. It's not hiding behind words, Mama. Like family and decency and Christianity.

There are many memories. but I'll tell you the one I like to think of best of all. It's just a homely everyday thing, but to me it is the happiest of them all. It is evening time here in the old house and the supper is cooking and the table is set for the whole family. It hurts a mother, Laura, when the plates begin to be taken away one by one. First there are seven and then six and then five...and on down to a single plate. So I like to think of the table set for the whole family at supper time. The robins are singing in the cottonwoods and the late afternoon sun is shining across the floor... The children are playing out in the yard. I can hear their voices and happy laughter. There isn't much to that memory is there? Out of a lifetime of experiences you would hardly expect that to be the one I would choose as the happiest, would you? But it is.

A wholesome mother knows the software to delete, download, upgrade and upload for the best results.

When somebody you love dies, a phase of life’s innocence dies with that person, and a part of you dies as well.

There would definitely be way fewer instances of cheating, if the average couple did not have sex only when the woman feels like it.

Look, my son, she is so beautiful, she has fair skin and green eyes and brown hair.''She's English?' I asked cheekily, holding the cheap photo print with trepidation. Which unfortunate victim had they found for me to marry in what backwater, unbeknownst that my heart was not for trading? Honour would quote Shakespeare to make a point; for me, it was always Rumi.'La hawla wala kuwwat... May God protect us from such misfortune... you think I have lost my senses that I would marry you to a white girl?' My mum used the word gori as an insult and yet when she talked about Billo she said 'Look how gori she is.'Oh, Mum, the irony.'Well, you seem pretty obsessed with green eyes and skin colour,' I mumbled.'She is gorgeous.' Mum went on ignoring me. 'Think how beautiful your children, my grandchildren, will be? They will have cats' eyes, just like Billo.'Honour has fair skin and green eyes too, and just think how beautiful your grandchildren will be if they're mixed race, I thought.I didn't say that to my mum, obviously.

You ask 'Are you a man or a demon?' Neither, I say. I have woken up, and the rest of you are sleeping, and that is the only difference between us.

Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family.

Troy and I loved each other. We called it 'unconditional love', which was true. Once conditions arose, the love dissipated.

When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching -- they are your family.

As you can see marriage is about putting away selfishness and taking on the concept of teamwork.

When Batty got back home from walking the dogs, there were teenagers lounging all over the place, some left over from the basketball game, some arriving for the birthday dinner, some who fit into both categories. For once, she hardly cared, too delighted to see that Oliver's sleek car was no longer in the driveway. Hoping that he was gone forever, she rushed into the house and ended up in the kitchen, where dinner preparations were in full swing. Mr. Penderwick was chopping up vegetables for quesadillas, Rosalind was pulling a cake out of the oven, Jeffrey was shredding cheese, and Iantha was cooking up small, plain cheese quesadillas for Lydia, who was to be fed before the big dinner got rolling. Then there were the non-workers: Lydia in her high chair, wearing both her crown and her lamb bib, her new pink rabbit beside her; Jane sitting cross-legged on the floor, in everyone's way; Ben, strutting around, showing off his new Celtics T-shirt; and Asimov, sticking close to Jeffrey, hoping for falling cheese.

In the world of today, human desires far supersede human needs. Waste, as you can see, is the result of all of those contradictions. That is how we ended up complicating our world.

Being loved is the only thing that is admirable by any stretch of the imagination.

Being alone is easier than having a family. When you have a family, you are responsible to each other. It’s easier to navigate the world without that burden.

I lost my family,” he says softly. The tone of his voice justifies my earlier regret. “If you have nothing to love, you have nothing to lose. Even your own life becomes meaningless.

My mother had been in the Soviet whirlpool for eleven years by this point. Enough time, I imagine, to unlearn the bourgeois habits of her native Brooklyn, to accustom herself to the farting and shouting of her neighbours, to doing her washing by hand in the collective tub, to keeping her dry food locked up in her wardrobe

IF you want to be a winner than follow one simple rule and feed it in your mind. Take each task and work as " Do it yourself project.

As they ran to the barn and began the careful climb up the steep ladder, Lily realized she had accidentally put on snow boots in her hurry. When they reached the top, the quiet hush of the still hayloft gave them that whisper-in-the-library feeling.

Accept the fact that girls squeal when they're happy or confused or excited or scared or because they just saw a certain boy in line.

To all those who care, You can't forever. Time steals the years,And your reflection in the mirror.But I can still see the story in your eyes, And your timeless passion that’s never died.While your skin became tired,Your heart became strong,The present became the past,And your memories like a song.And though the moment at hand is all that we have, You’ve taught me to live it like it is our last.Since two words don't say ‘thank you’ the way they are meant to,I'll try all my life to be something like you.

Romans 12:2What is the difference between a person born with a silver spoon that later eat with the pig and someone born among the pigs without a silver spoon in his mouth and later eat with a golden spoon? One must have changed his mind. If you can renew your mind, you can change your destiny.

In real life I fell easily under the spell of all traveling artists. En route to New Orleans, entertainments of many kinds would stop over in those days for a single performance in Jackson's Century Theatre. Then, as now, my imagination was magnetized toward transient artists - toward the transience as much as the artists. I must have seen "Acrobats in a Park" at the time I wrote the story as exotic, free of any experience as I knew it. At the center of the little story is the Zorro's act: the feat of erecting a structure of their bodies that holds together, interlocked, and stands like a wall. Writing about the family act, I was writing about the family itself, its strength as a unit, testing its frailty under stress. I treated it in an artificial and oddly formal way; the stronghold of the family is put on view as a structure built each night; on the night before the story opens, the Wall has come down when the most vulnerable member slips, and the act is done for. But from various points within it and from outside it, I've been writing about the structure of the family in stories and novels ever since. In spite of my uncompromising approach to it, my fundamental story form might have been trying to announce itself to me.

Family, can’t live with them, can’t orbitally bombard them back to the foul, oozing proto-plasma they crawled out of, I thought grimly.

I'm not sure, with a grandmother like mine, if you can ever become a true American in the sense of believing that life is about the pursuit of happiness.

I’m nobody’s sidekick,” Annabeth growled. “And, Percy, his accent sounds familiar because he sounds like his mother. We killed her in New Jersey.”Percy frowned. “I’m pretty sure that accent isn’t New Jersey. Who’s his—? Oh.”It all fell into place. Aunty Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium—the lair of Medusa. She’d talked with that same accent, at least until Percy had cut off her

Later that summer, as rain fell, such a moment shimmered and paused on the brink, and then began the ancient dance of numbers: two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two, and a new life took root and began to grow. And thus the generations past were joined to the unknowable future.

Jeff Hudson started me on a path that was key, and as life goes on it's become a mantra to me. It's that you're born into a family, your family of origin, and you're stuck with it. Once I recognized that, it freed me up to have a different kind of family: a family of choice. The people I surround myself with, spend holidays with, look to for support and comfort and validation -- that's my family of choice.

The core of any family is what is changeless, what is going to be there──shared vision and values.

At sixteen, you still think you can escape from your father. You aren't listening to his voice speaking through your mouth, you don't see how your gestures already mirror his; you don't see him in the way you hold your body, in the way you sign your name. You don't hear his whisper in your blood.

It's funny to think that Christmas — a time known for its joyful togetherness — can be the loneliest time of the year for some.

Parents often ask - how do I get my child interested in books and reading? One tried and true way that my late husband and I used was paying them to read. For each book that my sons read, we paid them $1. They soon developed a love for reading and forgot all about the money. Amazing but true!

The capacity for friendship is God's way of apologizing for our families.

My mother hasn’t asked the questions that a normal person would ask, and I’m grateful for it. It’s like the world has become so crazy that it makes sense to her now. I turn on the engine and drive us out. ‘Thanks, Mom. For coming to rescue me.’ My voice comes out reedy and a little wobbly. I clear my throat. ‘Not every mom would do that in a world like this.

Have you ever reached to a point where you asked God if the assignment is really from Him. In your account you have just 100 dollars and He is asking you to execute a 400 million dollar project. Have you reached to the point that you consider going further will make no sense? Have you reached the point where you asked God are you sure you are still with me?I just found myself in that Junction now. Turning back ....to realise I have gone too far for Him to forsake me. Moving forward I heard the voice saying ...be still and know that I am your God. Giving up.....Couldn't find it in my dictionary.Moral of the lesson. God cannot give you an assignment that is equal to your pocket. If it suits your pocket it is definitely not from God. Remember God will not take glory where nothing happen.

Now I know not anything that will contribute more to the furtherance of this good work than the bringing of family religion more into practice and reputation. Here the reformation must begin.

….two slate-colored gravestones settled at a slant into the lower corner of the field beside the lane. She could not read the names engraved on them, but she knew what they were. Joseph Watson, 1820-1891, and James Watson, son of Joseph and Hannah Watson, 1844-1863. The grave of Hannah Watson lay beside her husband’s and because she had died last, she had no marker, unless the pine tree growing there might count as one. To-morrow two men would drive up and leave a basket of flowers and a flag for Joseph because he had fought in the Civil War, and for James because he had died on his way home from it, but they would not have anything for Hannah because she had only identified her son James one hot summer day on the platform of North Derwich Station, and raised all the food her husband ate for twenty years as he sat in a chair in her kitchen, and done washings for Mrs. Hale to buy monuments for them at the end. But the flowers would die in the boxes; even if Jen found time to go down and set out the pansy plants in the ground, stray cows were sure to eat them off before the summer was over; and the Forrest children would take the flags to play with. Nothing would interfere with the tree.

Do you think just having a baby automatically makes you love it?''I'm not sure... you might have to learn to love it, like any other person.

To raise a child is to submit to a staggering amount of work, much of which is deeply unpleasant. It would be crazy to have children if they weren't so damned important.

You sure you want to come with me?” I said. “The odds are not good.” “We’re family,” said Suzie. I had to smile. “I haven’t been all that lucky when it comes to family.” “We’re the family you chose,” said Dead Boy. “The family that matters.

Beautiful homes with beautiful flowers

The air felt different in my lungs. The world no longer looked the same. You change and then you change again. You become a dog, a bird, a plant that always leans to the left. Only now that my son was gone did I realize how much I'd been living for him. When I woke up in the morning it was because he existed, and when I ordered food in the night it was because he existed, and when I wrote my book it was because he existed to read it.

The row was actually about everything in creation, but it had for its subject of the moment the boy's mustache.

I wanted someone above me in the chain of life. I didn't want to be alone, a single blue egg in a crumbling nest.

God is the designer of the family.

How long you will live in your dreams? The time is now, it's better to go and follow them..

Life is about the moments you create,that you can keep with you forever.After everything is over,That is what we have or what we are left with.

Wisdom is knowing the right thing to do and doing it at the right time to get the desired result. It is also the correct application of knowledge.

It’s an often repeated lie that familial bonds are the strongest. Some swear by them. Some claim an other-worldly connection with their siblings or nonsense of that order. These can be dismissed as flights of fancy. Artifices of civilization.In the wild, animals often exhibit what we would perceive as familial love. Some wild cats will grow up nurtured by their mothers, surrounded by their siblings, but should one stray from the pack for too long and attempt to rejoin, it will be summarily eaten or maimed by its ‘family.’ It’s no longer a part of them. The blood connection is irrelevant, what matters is the perception of the group.Conversely, there have been recorded instances of unfaithful wives giving birth to children from a man other than her husband. The father, oblivious to the indiscretion, loves the child as if it were his own. Would that love fade if he found out the truth?Who do you love more, your brother or your best friend? What if your brother tried to kill you, who then? Here, then, is my twentieth truth: “Do not trust in blood, trust only in yourself." In the end, that is all you have.

You don't build a family by tearing down another one.

I always hear people talk about 'dysfunctional families.' It annoys me, because it makes you think that somewhere there's this magical family where everyone gets along, and no one ever screams things they don't mean, and there's never a time when sharp objects should be hidden. Well, I'm sorry, but that family doesn't exist. And if you find some neighbors that seem to be the grinning model of 'function,' trust me - that's the family that will get arrested for smuggling arms in their SUV between soccer games.The best you can really hope for is a family where everyone's problems, big and small, work together. Kind of like an orchestra where every instrument is out of tune, in exactly the same way, so you don't really notice.

Expose human ties for what they really are and you are most likely to find the worst forms of betrayal staring back at you.

[The Devil and his angels] have... persuad[ed]... humans that a curious, and usually short-lived, experience which they call "being in love" is the only respectable ground for marriage; that marriage can, and ought to, render this excitement permanent; and that a marriage which does not do so is no longer binding. This idea [comes from their] parody of an idea that came from [God]... Things are to be many, yet somehow also one. The good of one self is to be the good of another. This... He calls Love, and this... can be detected under all He does and even all He is... He introduces into matter... the organism, in which the parts are [set at odds with] their natural destiny of competition and made to cooperate... In... humans [God] has... associated affection between the parties with sexual desire. He has also made the offspring dependent on the parents and given the parents an impulse to support it-thus producing the Family, which is like the organism, [but] the members are more distinct, yet also united in a more conscious and responsible way... [Heavenly Father] described a married couple as "one flesh." He did not say "a happily married couple" or "a couple who married because they were in love"...

You don't love Buck. If you did, you'd have four kids by now. Wouldn't you? Now wouldn't you? A woman like you...

There are a world of answers, outside the loop.

We need to place God at the center of our family . . . As a family, we need to walk with God daily.

I went to my grandmother, your great-great-grandmother, and asked her to write a letter. She was my mother's mother. Your father's mother's mother's mother. I hardly knew her. I didn't have any interest in knowing her. I have no need for the past, I thought, like a child. I did not consider that the past might have a need for me.What kind of letter? my grandmother asked.I told her to write whatever she wanted to write.You want a letter from me? she asked.I told her yes.Oh, God bless you, she said.The letter she gave me was sixty-seven pages long. It was the story of her life. She made my request into her own. Listen to me.