Mother Quotes - Page 3

I've spent my whole life trying to get over having had Nikki for a mother, and I have to say that from day one after she died, I liked having a dead mother much more than having an impossible one. [p. 47]

One night when we were lying under the stars together she pointed to this beaming bright star beside the moon and said wherever she was in the world, whether we were together or apart, that I should remember her with that star because it would always be there-that it was her with me.

His mother?" Gracie couldn't believe it. Suzy Denton looked much too young to be his mother. And much too respectable. "But you're not a-" She cut herself off in mid-sentence as she realized what she'd almost let slip.Suzy's wedding ring clicked against the steering wheel as she gave it a hard smack. "I'm going to kill him! He's been telling that hooker story again, hasn't he?

For many years, February was a difficult month for me after the death of my parents. My father died in February, just a week before my mother's birthday. For years their loss cast a pall over the month. I missed them terribly. But time has changed things. I see my father often in the face of my son and I run into my mother daily each time I pass the hall mirror.

I arose a mother in Israel.

My mother's life was way too heavy for me.

A Godly mother`s seed of faith yields a bounty of faithfulness.

A mother is the most important blessing of your life.

Chilled ice tea that tempered tepid summer days lathered thick with humidity. Frothy hot chocolate that cut winter’s chill. Bedtime prayers that sent our fears scrambling in panicked flight. Golden bouquets of dandelions aromatically rich with the gift of summers scent. Family meals that wove yet another binding thread in and through the tapestry of those seated around the table. These are but the slightest sampling of the innumerable gifts my mother handed to this child of hers. And without them, my life would be impoverished beyond words to describe.

Since Mom wasn't exactly the most useful person in the world, one lesson I learned at an early age was how to get things done, and this was a source of both amazement and concern for Mom, who considered my behavior unladylike but also counted on me. "I never knew a girl to have such gumption," she'd say. "But I'm not too sure it's a good thing.

In my experience nursing is waiting. The mother becomes the background against which the baby lives, becomes time. I used to exist against the continuity of time. Then I became the baby's continuity, a background of ongoing time for him to live against. I was the warmth and milk that was always there for him, the agent of comfort that was always there for him. My body, my life, became the landscape of my son's life. I am no longer merely a thing living in the world; I am a world.

I realized when you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.

Some people when they see cheese, chocolate or cake they don't think of calories.

There is always the fantasy of maternal love, but it does not accommodate a mother's fear of her children.

You breathe.You feel.You seeand hearand smelland tasteand thinkand moveand laughand weepand healand danceand singand love.Thank your mother.

Pieces of your heart broke every day when you were a mother.

The open forgiveness in her eyes, the uncensored love, terrified me.

My mother is my friendWho shares with me her breadAll my hopelessness cured!Her company makes me secured!

The Valley WeepsWeep softly o mother,the walls have ears you know...The streets are awash o mother!I cannot go searching for him any more.The streets are awash o motherwith blood and tears, pellets and screams.that silently remain locked in the air,while they lock us souless inside.The guns are out o mother,while our boys go armed with stones,I cannot go looking for him o mother,I have no courage to face what i will find.They fill the air o mother,The fragrance of plastic flowersI will place them beside your graveif i ever do survive,flowers that have no soul.and would never fade with time,The sun shines glorious o motherThe water sparkles so fineThe buds are closed in terrorand birds have gone silent with fearThere is poison in our heaven o motherI dread for what more is in store.They came for him o mother,yesterday as you slept inside,He went marching o motherwith all the others beside.I never told you o mother,I do not know if he would ever return.The streets are awash o mother!I cannot go searching for him any more.Weep softly o mother,the walls have ears you know...If your old blind eyes can see,You will want to see again no more.Our men have lost their spiritOur women have lost their smile,Our children have lost their laughter,The valley has lost its shine,Weep softly O motherFor, we still have our pride.17/07/2016

Daughter follows mother in actions and habits and some times also follows her granny.

We are not sheep or cows. God didn’t create fences for us or boundaries to contain our nationalities. Man did. God didn’t draw up religious barriers to separate us from each other. Man did. And on top of that, no father would like to see his children fighting or killing each other. The Creator favors the man who spreads loves over the man who spreads hate. A religious title does not make anyone more superior over another. If a kind man stands by his conscience and exhibits truth in his words and actions, he will stand by God regardless of his faith. If mankind wants to evolve, we must learn from our past mistakes. If not, our technology will evolve without us.

There are many things for which I owe gratitude to my dad. Most of all, I am grateful to the only man who could love my mother more than me.

I could no longer remember the way my mother's eyes looked before the slowing. Had they always been so red around the edges? Surely, those pockets of gray beneath her lower lashes were new. She still wasn't sleeping well, but perhaps what I was seeing was just age, a gradual shift that I'd failed to register. I sometimes felt the urge to study recent photographs of her in order to locate the exact point in time when she had come to look so weary.

And really, how insulting is it that to suggest that the best thing women can do is raise other people to do incredible things? I'm betting some of those women would like to do great things of their own.

Just because we're going to be in different worlds doesn't mean we've left each other - Julie Jaynes

Millions of deaths would not have happened if it weren’t for the consumption of alcohol. The same can be said about millions of births.

Every woman is a gift when she becomes a daughter, Every woman is beautiful when she becomes a lover, Every woman is special when she becomes a wife, Every woman is a god when she becomes a Mother

What is home without a mother?

And yet... you wouldn't want it to stop hurting... you wouldn't want to forget your little mother even if you could.

Laborsaving devices do not necessarily save time, but they increase our expectactations of what mothers should accomplish

If you honour your mother, the Mother of the Universe will guard you against harm.

Hasn't there always been a moon?""Bless you. Not in the slightest. I remember the day the moon came. We looked up in the sky--it was all dirty brown and sooty gray here then, not green and blue...

From across her husband's open grave I had thought she exuded a certain foxy mystique, but now, to my disappointment, she looked just like every other mother I knew.

Children are knives, my mother once said. They don’t mean to, but they cut. And yet we cling to them, don’t we, we clasp them until the blood flows.

Aires and Echo Emerson. Their mother must have hated them to give them names like that.

Tell me what you'll do if you're captured by the coyotes... Well, that might work, but does your mother live near here?

My arrivalHer womb’s delightHer existenceMy living lightHer woundsMy scarsHer skiesMy starsHer daysMy hoursHer strengthMy powersI breathe my name Being her childWithout motherLife’s beguiledFrom the poem 'Mother

Memory for most is a kind of afterlife; for my mother, it is another form of life.

Suddenly you realize that you are the mother of the Universe, eager to protect, transform and care every soul of the world.

God not da faddah, he just the spoiled moody child, but you got to go t'rough him to get to da real power, his mama, Mot'er God. She da real Almighty! She run da heavens alone. Original single parent. When somethin' bad happen, usually mean she let God try his hand, and he screw up plenny. You need something important, you go directly Mot'er God. Jesus, Mary, Joseph? Dey just small potatoes, part of the chorus, neh?

I had no illusions that now, in some final and dramatic flash of revelation, we would understand one another. We were done. It was a fact of my life--intractable and sad--that our relationship had been a failure. Still, with her prognosis came one last chance to be her daughter. [p. 163]

It’s time to stop dreaming about who you want your son to be and help him become the healthy, happy, and successful man he’s supposed to be.

Whatever time mother goes to heaven, it is always too soon. Fortunately, she is forever.

For me, adoption was grief in reverse.

Under her thick pancake makeup, her sin had been pockmarked, but he would stare at her adoringly from his cot at night and imagine her scars were constellations, a secret map to a far-off, happy place.

What she did have, after raising two children, was the equivalent of a PhD in mothering and my undying respect.

Love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves it's own mark. To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever.

Every child knows its mother, Dany thought. When the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves.

And if ever I'm reduced to looking for a meaning to my life, you never can tell, it's in that old mess I'll stick my nose to begin with, the mess of that poor old uniparous whore and myself the last of my foul brood, neither man nor beast.

Every parent is an artist, for the bared canvas of a newborn’s soul begs for the artist’s touch. And because this is so, a parent must prepare the palette with the utmost care, choose the brushes with poised caution, and mindfully attend to every brushstroke regardless of how slight. And such caution is utterly imperative for the emerging rendering will be both a legacy borne of the parent, and a life lived by the child.

On the big bed, Mamima and Sandeep’s mother began to dream, sprawled in vivid crab-like postures. His aunt lay on her stomach, her arms bent as if she were swimming to the edge of a lake; his mother lay on her back, her feet (one of which had a scar on it) arranged in the joyous pose of a dancer.

Bea did not want a new mother. She'd hardly even seen the one she once had, except for glimpses out the window when her mother was climbing into a carriage to go off to a party. She'd been as beautiful as an angel, all sparkling and laughing in her lovely gowns, but not much use.

A mother's hardest to forgive.Life is the fruit she longs to hand youRipe on a plate. And while you live,Relentlessly she understands you.

Gone was the reflexive need to see the worst in things. Before the tumors took her life, they gave her a few moments of grace.

A Mother & Daughter's Love Is Never Separated

Happiness, to me, was no different than Mom's paprikalaced domino bars: something that looked sweet until you took a bite, and then made you want to vomit.

The child you hold in your arms is your gift to a future that you will not see. Therefore, we must turn a blind eye to ourselves and selflessly pour the best of ourselves into our children while rigorously sifting out the worst of ourselves. And once we are utterly spent by such daring gestures, we will shockingly discover the resulting emptiness as astonishingly filled.

But not you, O girl, nor yet his mother,stretched his eyebrows so fierce with expectation.Not for your mouth, you who hold him now,did his lips ripen into these fervent contours.Do you really think your quiet footstepscould have so convulsed him, you who move like dawn wind?True, you startled his heart; but older terrorsrushed into him with that first jolt to his emotions.Call him . . . you'll never quite retrieve him from those dark consorts.Yes, he wants to, he escapes; relieved, he makes a homein your familiar heart, takes root there and begins himself anew.But did he ever begin himself?

I won’t tolerate her hurting you, my son. I’ll kill the bitch first.”“Weren’t you the one who tried to cut father’s throat before he Claimed you?”"He deserved it,

Before your mother's conception of you, God knew you; before His ‪consecration of you, He had up set your assignments right! You are not an accident!‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬