Best 4246 quotes in «family quotes» category

I think we owe it to our children to share our wisdom. If we share our wisdom for the purpose of changing our children, then that’s hitting them over the head with a hammer or shoving something down their throats. If the wisdom turns into advice, that’s selfish. But if we simply share ourselves and let our children know our hearts, then it’s a gift. And I think it’s a gift we’re responsible for giving them.

I think what a family is shouldn't be so hard to see. It should be the one thing people know just by looking at you.

I think what I want is for someone to know me. Really know me. Know me better than anyone else and maybe even me. Isn't that why we commit to another? It's not for sex. if it were for sex, we wouldn't marry one person. We'd just keep finding new partners. We commit for many reasons, I know, but the more I think about it, the more I think long-term relationships are for getting to know someone. I want someone to know me, really know me, almost like that person could get into my head. What would that feel like? To have access, to know what it's like in someone else's head. To rely on someone else, have him rely on you. That's not a biological connection like the one between parents and children. This kind of relationship would be chosen. It would be something cooler, harder to achieve than one built on biology and shared genetics.

I thought what I had then was something people got no matter what. I got it wrong, maybe, Laura says.

I thought home needed to be tall and luminous, a glowing building with a luxurious setting. Status. What I failed to understand is home is not where I place my head down at night or the color of my furniture. Home is the people I surrounded myself with, the ones I break bread with. The keepers of my secrets and my fears. It is to be loved and to give love without inhibitions.

I thought my blood must survive—my line—but it's not so. My knowledge, yes—the long knowledge remembered, repeated, the pride, yes, the pride and warmth, Mordeen, warmth and companionship and love so that the loneliness we wear like icy clothes is not always there. These I can give.

I thought upon the way in which we'd always shared each other's happiness, believing it would make the moment burn brighter and longer, but sadness can be shared too, perhaps sharing makes is burn briefer and less bright.

It is a blessing: when a family: gets together, rotates holidays, has strong marriages, sons to carry on the family name, daughters to keep it growing, money to afford a living... but most important of all is being close to God and having a good faith.

It is a characteristic of human beings that if they haven’t got a family of their own, they will invent one.

It is a healthy approach not to expect persons to turn out precisely how you would have wished.

It is easier for an ambitious friend to become an enemy than for an enemy to become a friend. It is even easier to make friends than you can find people to trust as friends.

It is easier to start a war than to end it.

It is far better for a family to stay together to enjoy each others company in fellowship of Faith of love.

It is fellowship, this most fundamental need on our way toward achieving our highest expression of the human experience, which Jiu Jitsu provides.

It is halfway true that if you are involved in a family coffeehouse you don't have a life.

It is important to create a family and bring up a child: these things are good and even necessary

It is impossible to enjoy divine protection without the word of God. You must be a word addict.

It is inevitable that being unaware of the purpose for it is inevitable that being unaware of the purpose for your life, you will not be able to recover from being abandoned by your wife or husband

It is necessary to analyze all the restricting beliefs and complexes, which we acquired in childhood, from family, school and society

It is no accident, Ma, that the comma resembles a fetus— that curve of continuation. We were all once inside our mothers, saying with our entire curved and silenced selves, more, more, more. I want to insist that are being alive is beautiful enough to be worthy of replication. And so what? So what if all I ever made of my life was more of it?

It is not a single crime when a child is photographed while sexually assaulted (raped.) It is a life time crime that should have life time punishments attached to it. If the surviving child is, more often than not, going to suffer for life for the crime(s) committed against them, shouldn't the pedophiles suffer just as long? If it often takes decades for survivors to come to terms with exactly how much damage was caused to them, why are there time limits for prosecution?

It is not difficult for an unwise mother quite unintentionally to centre the heterosexual feelings of a young son upon herself, and it is true that, if this is done, the evil consequences pointed out by Freud will probably ensue. This is, however, much less likely to occur if the mother's sexual life is satisfying to her, for in that case she will not look to her child for a type of emotional satisfaction which ought to be sought only from adults. The parental impulse in its purity is an impulse to care for the young, not to demand affection from them, and if a woman is happy in her sexual life she will abstain spontaneously from all improper demands for emotional response from her child.

It is not by blood, anyhow, that man's true continuity is established: Alexander's direct heir is Caesar, and not the frail infant born of a Persian princess in an Asiatic citadel; Epaminondas, dying without issue, was right to boast that he had Victories for daughters.

It is not something we often find out; but most of the specially-gifted have a deep desire to be ordinary.

It is of great significance if there is a person who truly prays in a family. Prayer attracts God's Grace and all the members of the family feel it, even those whose hearts have grown cold. Pray always.

It is one thing to speak kindly to an irritating stranger on Monday. It is quite another thing to go on speaking kindly to the same irritating relative, or irritating employee, or irritating child day after day, week after week, year after year and come to see in that what God is asking of me, what God is teaching me about myself in this weary, weary moment.

It is no wonder that Satan hates the family and has hurled his venom against it in the form of Communism.

It is one thing to be understanding of human weakness and the complexities of life, and another to accept ideologies that attempt to sunder what are inseparable aspects of reality. Let us not fall into the sin of trying to replace the Creator. We are creatures, and not omnipotent. Creation is prior to us and must be received as a gift. At the same time, we are called to protect our humanity, and this means, in the first place, accepting it and respecting it as it was created.

...it isn’t things and proximity, or even blood that holds us all together. What makes a family is love and loyalty.

It is only the strong Christian family unit that can survive the coming world holocaust.

It is quite true that it is wasteful, messy and the cause of avoidable work: all the same things could be said with equal truth of a baby.

It is possible the world is divided into three genders - there are men, there are women and then there are women who choose to have nothing to do with children. How about men without children, he answered quickly, aren't they also different from fathers? She shook her head firmly, daring him to contradict her: no, all men are the same.

It is possible to make family any way you like. It is possible to love men without rage. There are thousands of ways to love men.

It is sometimes hard to be a family.

It is strangely wonderful to feel the lack of something instead of believing that it was never there in the first place.

It is the height of human happiness to have somebody to love. Our agony is that we have all the light and the paint but no canvas to put the art of our hearts on.

It is the most miserable thing to feel ashamed at home.

It is the mess that readers love. The fact that sometimes the people who love us the most aren't people we're related to, but people who join our family later. The book acknowledges how difficult family relationship are, and this fuss just proves it.

it is strange how sisters can be saviors or strangers & sometimes a bit of both.

It is the little act of kindness that touches our heart and blossom our life with gladness.

It is the sad privilege of blood relations to love him despite all.

It is through the institution of families that children are brought up in an orderly manner; and that the knowledge of God and of His laws is handed down from generation to generation.

It is true that you can't choose your family, but you can choose your friends. It is also true that you can choose your partner and in doing so, you end up choosing the family you've always wanted.

It is well known to environmental radiation researchers that the person who buys the light bulbs for the home has the ability to make the entire family sick.

It must be a great comfort tae him, and tae all, that you have helped so considerably with matters of the Clan,” Aiden said. To his left, Ranulf choked on the contents of his tankard and Adalwulf’s eyes narrowed.

It melted my heart, no matter how much strangers love you, like you or praise you but if your closer ones believes in you and your dreams, then you have a life, which is worth it, there is nothing better than friends and family.

It may be too late, if you wait until Christmas to show those who you love, you have loved them.

I told her about my grandfather, about the little apartment we used to share over a nice-smelling bakery. It had one window, and you could sit there, on the cracked paint, studying people in the street. My grandfather would stroll down the sidewalk, tools in hand. He was a plumber. And there was always work to be done.

I, too, was fiercely independent and thought I could make two equal four.

I told her one of the few stories that she'd told me of myself as a child. We'd gone to a park by a lake. I was no older than two. Me, my father, and my mother. There was an enormous tree with branches so long and droopy that my father moved the picnic table from underneath it. He was always afraid of me getting crushed. My mother believed that kids had stronger bones than grownups. "There's more calcium in her forearm than in an entire dairy farm," she liked to say. That day, my mother had made roasted tomato and goat cheese sandwiches with salmon she'd smoked herself, and I ate, she said, double my weight of it. She was complimenting me when she said that. I always wondered if eating so much was my best way of complimenting her. The story went that all through lunch I kept pointing at a gaping hole in the tree, reaching for it, waving at it. My parents thought it was just that: a hole, one that had been filled with fall leaves, stiff and brown, by some kind of ferrety animal. But I wasn't satisfied with that explanation. I wouldn't give up. "What?" my father kept asking me. "What do you see?" I ate my sandwiches, drank my sparkling hibiscus drink, and refused to take my eyes off the hole. "It was as if you were flirting with it," my mother said, "the way you smiled and all." Finally, I squealed, "Butter fire!" Some honey upside-down cake went flying from my mouth. "Butter fire?" they asked me. "Butter fire?" "Butter fire!" I yelled, pointing, reaching, waving. They couldn't understand. There was nothing interesting about the leaves in the tree. They wondered if I'd seen a squirrel. "Chipmunk?" they asked. "Owl?" I shook my head fiercely. No. No. No. "Butter fire!" I screamed so loudly that I sent hundreds of the tightly packed monarchs that my parents had mistaken for leaves exploding in the air in an eruption of lava-colored flames. They went soaring wildly, first in a vibrating clump and then as tiny careening postage stamps, floating through the sky. They were proud of me that day, my parents. My father for my recognition of an animal so delicate and precious, and my mother because I'd used a food word, regardless of what I'd actually meant.