Best 4246 quotes in «family quotes» category

I turn around, remembering again that we got made together, cell for cell. We were keeping wach other company when we didn't have any eyes or hands. Before our soul even got delivered.

It was a family joke that Lydia's domestic tendencies were somehow misplaced when she was created.

It was a gaze that held the comfort of familiarity. There was no mystery, no enigmatic depth, but unrestrained length, the length of years—the laughter of childhood games and Christmas carols of home— lining its pathways with simple, yet easily overlooked, understanding.

It was all about money. Dirty, bloody money. It can come and go so easily. They don't see that life is what's important. Love, friendship, trust, respect, a daily routine, someone to grow old with, siblings to cherish, family, a home; things people don't give a damn about until they lose them, things money can't bring back.

It was an oddly satisfying idea to feel bereft as I left my mother this time. We only feel bereft when we’re deprived of something meaningful.

It was as if his fingers knew things, but they couldn't show him unless they were moving, touching. He had to think it was similar for carpenters and writers, and he knew it was the same for chefs.

It was extraordinary the way her body knew how to do things—the mobile phone, the makeup, the lock—without her mind remembering her ever having done them before.

It was bittersweet and lovely how this thing called family could make you feel belonged, wanted and complete.

It was hard to know what to make of the brothers' dark infatuation with death. It was strange, wildly anomalous in sun-baked Southern California, where the light is so bright it bleaches the shadows.

It was kind of funny—the thing that had annoyed me so much about him in the beginning was what I dearly appreciated now.

It was like how people find other people to be in love with, all random and accidental and lucky.

It was mind boggling to know that I would experience such betrayal at such a young age while others live their whole life without knowing what betrayal is

It was more than the war that changed me - Corin

It wasn't normal, it was quite far from normal, but they were hers and she loved everything about them.

It wasn't that you could take them for granted, as such - heaven knows, nothing can be taken for granted in this life - it was simply that you would know, almost unthinkingly, that they'd be there if you needed them, no matter how bad things got.

It wasn't until the 1920s that a bare majority of children grew up in families where the father's labor purchased the family's provisions, while their mother did unpaid child care, elder care, and housework. The Great Depression and World War II disrupted this family form, but it roared back in the 1950s, when the percentage of wives and mothers who were supported entirely by their husbands' wages reached a high that has never been equaled, before or since.

It was one thing to be fooled, and another thing to be taken for a fool all the time.

It was the cruelest of destiny’s tricks, the death of a young person.

It was the usual struggle between one who loves by accepting burdens and one who loves by refusing to be one.

it was weird. Would you believe it if some supermodel called you up and told you she was your sister?’ Strike thought of his own bizarre family history. ‘Probably,’ he said.

It was the old saw: Family and money – trouble when you got it, trouble when you ain’t.

I understood that this sister of mine was going to live somewhere else, away from us...This information did not make me thing of the baby as less mine. She was my sister, like my brother was my brother and my mother was my mother. The adoptive parents' claim on my developing sister did not negate mine, she was not a kingdom or a territory or a thing with a deed; she was a person. This baby girl would be both my sister and these other people's daughter, and my mom's daughter. there would be moments when one claim took focus-- as right now this baby girl was more Ours than Theirs, and one day she would be more Theirs than Ours, but none of those connections could completely erase the others. It would be easier, perhaps, if they could, if after she was gone we could forget this baby ever belonged to us. But that's not how people work.

I used to wonder about the fake pictures that came in frames you buy at the store—ladies with smooth brown hair and show-me smiles, grapefruit-headed babies on their sibling's knees—people who in real life probably were strangers brought together by a talent scout to be a phony family. Maybe it's not so different from real photos, after all.

I used to play a game where I imagined that someone had abandoned me in a strange place & I had to find my way back home-I thought I could do it blind, the same way a lost dog might trek a thousand miles to return to its owner, relying on some mysterious instinct that drew the heart back to where it belonged.

I’ve asked Carol to marry me. What? Just now? No, said his father with a rare laugh. For the last 20 years. She’s always said no. Really? Says she doesn’t want me telling her what to do with her money. And I thought she was just being modern, Ellis smiled. Yeah, that too. But she said I had to get your permission first. Mine? So that’s what I’m asking. You have it. You can think about it — — Nothing to think about. But you might feel different later. I won’t. Just marry her, Dad. Marry her. His father took off his cap and smoothed his hair. He put the cap back on. Painting’s upstairs, he said.

I’ve been real lost without her. Like, she was this compass I didn’t even know I had.

I’ve gotten plenty of things. Plenty of girls. But never her. ", Drew Donovan in Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

I've misplaced it all, but I can't seem to lose my brother. It's a priceless gift--to have his love at a time when I've done nothing to earn it.

I've never had sex," repeated Artemis. "Never wanted to." It was her turn not to look at him as she spoke. "Not with a man or with a woman, or with an animal, though my family joke about it. And I never will. The thought of it disgusts me. But the others - my family - they think that means I haven't got any feelings. That I could never care about anyone, that I don't know what love is, just because I don't-" she shuddered. "But you know what?" she said, turning to him now. "I really loved my dogs. Everyone laughs at me for it, but it's true. The time I spent with them, running, hunting, those were the happiest times of my life. They understood me. They were animals but they understood me far better than anyone in my family ever will. We shared something, we were the same. And they made me kill them.

I've often wondered - where do the people who WORK at coffee shops go to meet their friends - Do they go to Conference Rooms? And if they don't meet in conference rooms, I'd like them to know I'd be willing to rent out my grandma's basement. -James Lee Schmidt and Jarod Kintz

I wanted her to have the full, long life that every parent promises his or her child by the simple act of bringing that child into the world.

I wanted nothing more out of life than I did to keep my family together and make sure they were safe. The memory of those days reminds me of how exhausted I had been, but my siblings gave my life purpose, they were my bridge from pain to healing, from past to future. They are as much the authors of my survival as I am of theirs.

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.

I wanted to see my family, but didn't want to leave the other guys. The people waiting for us were strangers, even though I knew every last one of them.

I wanted to write a lie. You wanted to read a lie. I wrote this to you instead.

I wanted to give you something that would last forever. Something that would surpass the world, that would still be alive and bright even after you passed away. Something beautiful. For your eyes and smile only. But I never found it. All I could give you is words. Words which were as fleeting as the heartbeats that shook my soul whenever you looked my way.

I wanted to know what our family's stories were. I wanted to know the things Mom wouldn't think to tell me. Things she knew but never said out loud, because they were a part of her. I wanted to know what made the Bahrami family special.

I want to reach the top with it all--business, family and faith!

I want to be so successful that one day my mom never has to buy a thing for herself again

I want you to be happy," I tell him, my eyes searching his. 'I want you to have a family. I want you to be surronded by people who care about you," I say. 'You deserve that.

I was calling you earlier when your name and number flashed up on my cell’s screen. But instead of it being you, it was Chris.” “You still have my number programed into your phone?

I was also sick of my neighbors, as most Parisians are. I now knew every second of the morning routine of the family upstairs. At 7:00 am alarm goes off, boom, Madame gets out of bed, puts on her deep-sea divers’ boots, and stomps across my ceiling to megaphone the kids awake. The kids drop bags of cannonballs onto the floor, then, apparently dragging several sledgehammers each, stampede into the kitchen. They grab their chunks of baguette and go and sit in front of the TV, which is always showing a cartoon about people who do nothing but scream at each other and explode. Every minute, one of the kids cartwheels (while bouncing cannonballs) back into the kitchen for seconds, then returns (bringing with it a family of excitable kangaroos) to the TV. Meanwhile the toilet is flushed, on average, fifty times per drop of urine expelled. Finally, there is a ten-minute period of intensive yelling, and at 8:15 on the dot they all howl and crash their way out of the apartment to school.” (p.137)

I want you to want something for once. Something that nobody told you to want. I want. I do. Want things. Like what princess? I want something that will make this all worth it; I want the good stuff. I’m ready for the goddamn silver lining. I want to have sisters who live down the street, I want a family; I want a mother to call when I need to know the right temperature to cook a goddamn chicken. I want Sunday suppers and summer barbecues at lake houses. I want to stop second-guessing every tiny detail of every single day, every word that comes out of my mouth. I want to be brave. I want to jump without looking down all the time. I want to be able to watch a TV show without seeing things that remind me about my sisters, about the could-have-been family. I want us to push tables together in restaurants so we all fit, I want to fill benches and rows of bleachers with us, I want the world to make room. I want to laugh too loud and make people wish they were us. I want them to feel it. Those perfect families, those perfect packages, those smug titles for everyone- mother father sister brother, step-this and half-that. They all have words for what they are. And we don’t. I want that.

I was just going to say it reminds me of the symbols on a family crest.” Noah stopped mid-stride, and turned very slowly. “We’re not related.” “I know, but—” “Don’t even think it.

I was a tourist in a bizarre land. I was home.

I wasn't going to go deeper into the darkness for anybody. I was already living in the darkness. My family was my light and I was going to protect that light at all cost. That was where my dedication was, first, last and everything in-between. What did I owe the rest of the world? Nothing. Not a damn thing.

I was strong from losing them, maybe, but any goodness in me came from having them." (p. 124)

I was sick of the body count that existed around my family. It seemed statistically that eventually the body count would include my family.

I was so done with looking at life through the eyes of beer-drinking cheese-heads. I wanted to go on that mission trip and look through the eyes of someone from a different culture and see what they saw. I wanted to meet people who didn’t crush the can of what they just drank on their forehead.-Rebecca Meyer, Crooked Lines

I was the first face you saw when you were born, you were bald as my hair ran black. Now yours the last face I saw before I died, your hair ran black, as I was bald.