Best 111 quotes in «family drama quotes» category

45,000 sections of reinforced concrete—three tons each. Nearly 300 watchtowers. Over 250 dog runs. Twenty bunkers. Sixty five miles of anti-vehicle trenches—signal wire, barbed wire, beds of nails. Over 11,000 armed guards. A death strip of sand, well-raked to reveal footprints. 200 ordinary people shot dead following attempts to escape the communist regime. 96 miles of concrete wall. Not your typical holiday destination. JF Kennedy said the Berlin Wall was a better option than a war. In TDTL, the Anglo-German Bishop family from the pebbledashed English suburb of Oaking argue about this—among other—notions while driving to Cold War Berlin, through all the border checks, with a plan to visit both sides of it.

At that moment, she wished to never return to her home… home… Could that abusive family place be called that way?

A home for her, I told her calmly, should come from the dick that knocked her up and then skipped off because no one can stand her two days in a row. She grabbed the tablecloth and threw it at me, but there was nothing on the table, and a tablecloth cannot kill anyone.

An old western standoff had nothing on the looks that my mom and grandma were exchanging. A tumbleweed could have rolled through the kitchen and neither would have noticed.

A question that always makes me hazy is it me or are the others crazy' Albert Einstein

As Esther reached her father’s side, his hand snaked out to grab hold of her upper arm. She gasped, wincing as he dragged her along beside him. For the second time in a single day, AJ found himself wanting to intercede, but this time he didn’t. Adults had a code all their own.

Big girls do cry.

Comparing marriage to football is no insult. I come from the South where football is sacred. I would never belittle marriage by saying it is like soccer, bowling, or playing bridge, never. Those images would never work, only football is passionate enough to be compared to marriage. In other sports, players walk onto the field, in football they run onto the field, in high school ripping through some paper, in college (for those who are fortunate enough) they touch the rock and run down the hill onto the field in the middle of the band. In other sports, fans cheer, in football they scream. In other sports, players ‘high five’, in football they chest, smash shoulder pads, and pat your rear. Football is a passionate sport, and marriage is about passion. In football, two teams send players onto the field to determine which athletes will win and which will lose, in marriage two families send their representatives forward to see which family will survive and which family will be lost into oblivion with their traditions, patterns, and values lost and forgotten. Preparing for this struggle for survival, the bride and groom are each set up. Each has been led to believe that their family’s patterns are all ‘normal,’ and anyone who differs is dense, naïve, or stupid because, no matter what the issue, the way their family has always done it is the ‘right’ way. For the premarital bride and groom in their twenties, as soon as they say, “I do,” these ‘right’ ways of doing things are about to collide like two three hundred and fifty pound linemen at the hiking of the ball. From “I do” forward, if not before, every decision, every action, every goal will be like the line of scrimmage. Where will the family patterns collide? In the kitchen. Here the new couple will be faced with the difficult decision of “Where do the cereal bowls go?” Likely, one family’s is high, and the others is low. Where will they go now? In the bathroom. The bathroom is a battleground unmatched in the potential conflicts. Will the toilet paper roll over the top or underneath? Will the acceptable residing position for the lid be up or down? And, of course, what about the toothpaste? Squeeze it from the middle or the end? But the skirmishes don’t stop in the rooms of the house, they are not only locational they are seasonal. The classic battles come home for the holidays. Thanksgiving. Which family will they spend the noon meal with and which family, if close enough, will have to wait until the nighttime meal, or just dessert if at all? Christmas. Whose home will they visit first, if at all? How much money will they spend on gifts for his family? for hers? Then comes for many couples an even bigger challenge – children of their own! At the wedding, many couples take two candles and light just one often extinguishing their candle as a sign of devotion. The image is Biblical. The Bible is quoted a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one. What few prepare them for is the upcoming struggle, the conflict over the unanswered question: the two shall become one, but which one? Two families, two patterns, two ways of doing things, which family’s patterns will survive to play another day, in another generation, and which will be lost forever? Let the games begin.

Broken homes are broken souls. Who will heal the souls of the broken? Society becomes the breeding grounds for a population of humanity, confused and lost because love is gone as the source for human behavior.

But now I saw with fresh conviction that is was us, all of us, who were failing, and the hallmark of our failure was the way we ate with our heads down, hungrily, quickly, because there was nothing else to do at the table

Dad got furious when we lied to him. No, Dad got furious then we lied to him.

Don’t destroy yourself over somebody else’s foolishness. I know they betrayed you. I know they lied on you. I know they talked behind your back and told all of your business. I know they hurt you to the core. I know they turned their back on you. I know they cheated on you. I know they mislead you. I know, I KNOW. In spite of it all, you have to know that you are worth more than what they dished out to you. You will survive! You will make it through! Remember who YOU are and know YOUR self-worth!

Douglas, you have an incredible capacity for missing the point. Will you listen to me, just for once? The debate does not matter. It's not about the issues. Albie might have been naive or ridiculous or pompous or all of those things, but you apologized. You said you were embarassed by him. You took the side of a bunch of arms-dealers! Bloddy bastard arms-dealers against your son - our son - and that was wrong, it was the wrong thing to do, because in a fight you side with the people you love. That's just how it is.

Family and dysfunction went together like peanut butter and jelly. Family sagas. Everything would be okay. But how?

Family’s the luck of the draw, Lena. What you make of yourself, because of or despite it, that’s where the spine and heart come in.

Emily crawled down to the floor, sliding along the wall, in the corner of the room. The girl did not show anyone that her heart was crying; therefore, everyone thought that she just did not care. After encountering reluctance to understand her from the side of her family members and their typical prejudiced judgment for too many times, her pride would not let her show the storm of emotions taking place inside of her soul.

I’d have to prove to everyone, including Ellia, that I was more than some guy she used to know, that what we shared had and still mattered. She may have forgotten the promise we made on the beach, but I hadn’t, and it was up to me to backup those words with action. Memories and ghosts were for the dead. Living things moved, and I was never one to stand still." ~Liam

For most people, their family is the source of inner power and protection; mine is a killing collapsar. Communication with my parents is always such a stress; it’s like a heavy burden I have to carry over my life… I never felt I really had a family: instead, there was a kind of a coalition of enemies unfriendly to me. The worst thing is that everlasting negativity in the environment constantly sucks the live energy out.

Full of intrigue, tangled pasts, and raw emotions, [Gambling On A Secret by Sara Walter Ellwood] is guaranteed to keep you turning pages from start to finish and then wishing for one more chapter!

He made my mom call and tell Maureen I wouldn't be in to see her anymore. He said therapy is a waste of money. He also told her to upgrade the cable service and to order him a subscription to Military History magazine. The he went and bought a new fishing pole for Matt, who is dead.

He pulled her toward him and gathered her in his arms as his hand lovingly cradled the back of her neck. She stopped breathing as he leaned down—ohmigod, the Adonis was about to kiss her—and planted the softest, most sensual kiss on her lips. Time stood still on the busy Chicago street.

Here we go then," Dad says. "Motoring towards our dreams, Bridge." "You shouldn't follow dreams," Grandma announces. "Why?" I ask her. "Because it's a road paved with disappointments, that's why. People should get on with what they've blinking well got at home." "You can't tell people what their dreams are meant to be." "I can. But they never listen, do they?

Honesty never was the best policy.That proverb was only intended for those who had no money,no dignity and no suitable standard of living.Don't give me such shoddy talk.Honesty breeds objectionable implications.If we were always honest with each other,we would have more enemies,there would be no point in achieving our goals,there would be more suicides and above all every person's weaknesses would be exposed." -Tasmin Jahan,The root of all Evil

Humans can be truly cruel sometimes, even so-called friends, relatives, and family. Moreover, I found out that treating people genuinely nice often leads to disappointment when they just don’t bother to treat you back the same way.

I am the hungry little girl who sat in the sand over fifty years ago waiting to be rescued by an ancient old man. I am Sara Niles, and this is my story.

I don't correct her to let her know her backdoor wisdom yanks me deep into another country, where water runs uphill.

First of all, I’m not a ‘military type.’ Second, I never proclaimed to be a gentleman of any kind. I just like the facts straight up. There’s no bullshit to wade through to get to the truth." Dylan

Friday night's alright for fighting Saturday, Sunday, Monday too Every night is a night of fighting With family and friends like you

His expression was strained. "I'm trying like hell to be the good guy here. I need you to go inside and lock the door behind you to keep out of trouble." "I thought Wildstone was safe." "It is. The trouble isn't going to come from the unknown. It's going to come from me. Go, Quinn. Now. And lock your door." She stared up at him, mesmerized by the thought of him being trouble, images going through her head of him proving it to her, all of them involving little to no clothing and a bed.

Holy crap, Caleb! You're my uncle." Nick "No!" Caleb "It's worse. He's the half-brother of your great-grandfather." Kody "You're not helping." Caleb "No, but I'm entertaining myself at your adorable expense." Kody "Yeah, y'all are missing the important fact. To a Cajun, that makes him my uncle." Nick "Great. I always wanted to be a monkey's uncle. Nice to know I finally succeeded." Caleb

I don't know why you weren't around for him and Jase but I know you love them. You knew Gran and Gramps would give them everything you felt you couldn't

I was traumatizing her. I could only hope that at three she was too young to retain any of this in memory, that in the years to follow I could make up for any future need for therapy I was creating now. Could I? Or would she always have a deep insecurity, the kind that send people careening from one disastrous romance to the next? And why did I have to live my life obsessed with these kinds of concerns, this constant attempt to control the most uncertain of outcomes, my own effect on someone else's mind?

If I could turn my thoughts into spoken words and share them with someone, they’d become real and mean something. Now, they were only lines that could be erased when I didn’t feel them anymore or hopeful thoughts that, like shadows, would disappear when the sun went away. - Rebecca Meyer, Crooked Lines

I'm a lesbian. I'm not dead.

In life we all should learn to forgive but never forget. Best way to learn from our mistakes.

I think of it like a caterpillar--a wrinkly, ugly worm with traces of dull colors on it. But when the worm metamorphoses, it becomes something truly beautiful.” Charli

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's like we grew up in a war zone," he told Rene. He laughed. "God. Jesus." He got serious. "I'm not kidding," he said.

It was the same mantra she had silently chanted before on other festive occasions. 'May you be happy'--her mother had wanted to be happy, hadn't she? Didn't everyone?" Things Unsaid, from Chapter, "Birthday Celebration

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

Kate was about to protest when something caused her to look in her mother’s direction. She was standing statue-like in front of the television with that brave, painted-on smile. Then Kate realized what had caught her attention: her mother’s tear-filled eyes were reflecting the on-off motion of the blinkers like a watery mirror. Kate stared transfixed at the flashing points of light that betrayed her mother’s pain. The urge to tell her father how much she wanted him to be proud of her and how much he had hurt her, faded in the dark depths of her mother’s eyes.

I'll be there for Thanksgiving', Mike said before hanging up, and she heard his kiss on the phone--the kind reserved for family." Things Unsaid, from Chapter, "Thanksgiving

In order to keep liking Nick (as opposed to loving him which was completely non-negotiable) Alice sometimes had to look at him obliquely or with her eyes half closed or through a pin hole on a piece of cardboard. Straight on would burn her retinas.

In the white marble hall of the hotel, I'm waltzing with Rajat. The music is a river and we're dancing in it. It winds against our bodies, muscular as a serpent.

Intimidated, old traumas triggered, and fearing for my safety, I did what I felt I needed to do.

In WASP families, if you don't get along with someone, you have as little to do with them as possible. In Jewish families, you move next door, to make them as miserable as possible.

I stared, like always. A tree in the Petrified Forest. I looked down at my hands and feet and ordered them to move, only they wouldn’t.

It is not a good idea to call yourself a sardine in a family like Leo's, who will not let you forget it.

It's a real job" I said. "Getting promoted to martyrdom is not the top position.

It’s like returning to a familiar room and noticing objects had been moved while you were gone—a chair here, a picture frame there. Items that were once brand new were suddenly broken in and worn from age. It was all very subtle, but enough to suspect paranormal activity or a cruel practical joke. When no one else saw what you saw, the freak factor really kicked in, because you were singled out and left questioning reality." ~Ellia