Best 7965 quotes in «father quotes» category

Maybe he was honor-bound to lock us in, by some imagined duty? Perhaps this was an Islamic preparation to make us contended wives? Were these locks supposed to dampen useless dreams that sparked needless desires? Or, was he a mad man, sick and demented?

Maybe it's time to stop being a soldier and go home to be a father. And a husband for Deanna. I'm not sure how.

May my children follow their own intuition to discover true empowerment - in the answers they seek.

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.

Most of the time, it felt like my father and I were completely different species. Possibly literally, depending on the day and whether or not I actually qualified as human at the time.

Mother in my first short story is dead, nobody knows how but she is dead and the father somehow madness or who knows from what he decides to start and play with the dead body. It's really a difficult moment.

Mwanampotevu dunia ilimfundisha ndiyo maana akarudi kwa baba yake akiwa amenyooka, hakuwa na maadili mema. Yusufu dunia ilimfundisha ndiyo maana akawa waziri mkuu wa Misri, na ndiyo maana akaokoa familia yake kutokana na njaa, alikuwa na maadili mema. Heri kudharaulika kwa kutenda mema kuliko kudharaulika kwa kutenda maovu. Ukidharaulika kwa kutenda maovu hutaishi sawasawa na mapenzi ya Mungu. Ukidharaulika kwa kutenda mema Mungu atakuinua.

My Dad has been a feminist, way before I learnt how to spell the word.

...My dad, may he rest in peace, taught me many wonderful things. And one of the things he taught me was never ask a guy what you do for a living. He said "If you think about it, when you ask a guy, what do you do you do for a living," you’re saying "how may I gauge the rest of your utterances." are you smarter than I am? Are you richer than I am, poorer than I am?" So you ask a guy what do you do for a living, it’s the same thing as asking a guy, let me know what your politics are before I listen to you so I know whether or not you’re part of my herd, in which case I can nod knowingly, or part of the other herd, in which case I can wish you dead.

My dad once said... "Some friends are like "rubber wrappers"; they bind with you safely but get weaker when you stretch them too much". Treat your friends with care, else the elasticity of their love for you may not go lasting!

My dad’s contentment is all that matters to me. When he’s laughing, I’m laughing. When he’s happy, I’m happy. I would give up my soul for him. To me, nothing else but his happiness matters.

My dad had once told me a definition of faith and I had not forgotten it: 'Faith is to believe something you do not see. The result of that faith is to see what you believed'.

My dad said, "Glenda, you can go anywhere in the world you want to and do anything you desire." Hearing those words had a very strong and powerful impact on me, and to do this very day they inspire me when making life decisions.

My dad’s life was magnificent, but only if I let myself see and remember more than his years of decline.

My father nodded. His nod was for me. Different. But not different at all. My father understood. Maybe he had known. Maybe he hadn't. It didn't matter anymore. He understood. I knew he understood, just from his nod, just from his eyes on mine, making his eyes kind for me, and the wave of pain went away for a moment.

My father's viola. It is a forest. It is a living tree. It is the heartwood of our family. My father's viola is over to hundred years old, even older than Germany. It is the color of well-done pastry, shining like apricot glaze.

My father's love was always strongMy mother's glamour lives on and on.Yet still inside I felt alone, for reasones unknow to me.

My father some times he goes crazy, but sometimes nerves, crazy and mad in one place it's like daemon have started to control his life so he ended his life.

My father always says, to know a man, you must visit his library, for the contours of his mind have been shaped by the words on his bookshelf

My father died suddenly, but also across the years. He was still dying, really- which meant I guess that he was still living, too.

My father looked as if I’d just gutted him, and I felt a pang of regret—but it was mingled with a twisted sense of satisfaction. It felt good to hurt his feelings—it was payback for the way his choices had irrevocably damaged my own.

My father opened my mind, my mother opened my heart, but it was children who opened my soul.

My father said the weakest camel draws the wolves.” “Mine told me to hide until the wolves go away,” Abban replied.

My father said this to me: "Israelmore, if you don't make any impact on earth, you will die before you die. But if you impress hearts with what you do, you still live even after you are gone

My father used to say that stupid people think. (I really don't agree with him!)

MY FATHER" You know I always had that power, power of words in my pen that could turn my darkest, miserable, unbearable life's moments into a hope for happiness. I always had that ability to make all my monsters and demons fade away and turn them into the piece of motivation that was worth having for a successful life. But My Father after everything you've sacrificed and everything you've been suffered just for the sake of our happiness I just realized that my words don't have enough power to Thank You. It will be nothing in front of your efforts. You made me everything I am today. So here's what i'm gonna do...! I'm gonna make you a promise that i will never let you down, I will always have your back and i'll always be there for you just like you are. I LOVE YOU Father...! You've always been my hero Regards, Your Son. A very Happy Father's day to you

My father looked as if I'd just gutted him - but it was mingled with a twisted sense of satisfaction. It felt good to hurt his feelings.

My father moved out a week later. I hugged him at our front door and couldn't bear to watch him leave with so much luggage.

My father was gone. I went up to his suite, not to see him, but to figure out if he had been gone or left in a hurry. It looked like a tornado had visited so I assume he started packing as soon as he heard I was coming. I spit in his open underwear drawer. I know that’s nuts but I always try to leave a little something for the asshole on my visits.

..my father was the best man in the world and probably worth a hundred of me, but he didn't understand me. The town he lived in and the town I lived in were not the same.

...my father, [was] a mid-level phonecompany manager who treated my mother at best like an incompetent employee. At worst? He never beat her, but his pure, inarticulate fury would fill the house for days, weeks, at a time, making the air humid, hard to breathe, my father stalking around with his lower jaw jutting out, giving him the look of a wounded, vengeful boxer, grinding his teeth so loud you could hear it across the room ... I'm sure he told himself: 'I never hit her'. I'm sure because of this technicality he never saw himself as an abuser. But he turned our family life into an endless road trip with bad directions and a rage-clenched driver, a vacation that never got a chance to be fun.

My father was a man, and I know the sex pretty well.

My main nurturing instinct toward children is mild sadism--picking them up and threatening to drop them--which is why I am a good uncle but would make a poor father.

My own view of Father was not nearly so high-flown or complicated. For me he was flesh and blood and until the day I left Memphis behind, to take up residence in Manhattan, he remained simply a barrier between me and any independent life I might aspire to- a barrier to any pursuit of ideas, interests, goals that my temperament guided me toward.

My son, do not forget your father's instructions.

My Son, Only Tax and Death are for sure.

My mouth fell open in incredulity. “Ah, Maria. Are you trying to tell me you’ve taken up the sport of fly-catching with your mouth?” Ros reached over and lifted my chin. “And an assistant too. So that you don’t scare the little flies away. How wonderful; I didn’t realise it was a team sport. Interesting. Tell me, what do they taste like? I can’t imagine a fly filling any hole in your stomach. How many have you caught?” “That’s disgusting.” Ros screwed her face up. “My thoughts exactly.

Non capì, comprese. Perché comprendere era di più, era un abbraccio, era prendere con sé, era farne parte.

Never go on a date unarmed.” Words of wisdom from my father. Well, my foster father. I was an orphan, of course. The best kings always are.

Nobility is a lie. A pretence that high standing comes from anything more than money or martial prowess. Any dolt can play the noble, and as you'll discover in time, daughter, it's mostly dolts who do.

New teacher, if old was GreenHollyWood the new.... will be.... will be.... why not Holly Grendery... a teacher who lives agony - My Father (Bill) used to say if somebody is feeling miserable... let's take him out of his own misery.

No matter how knowledgeable you are, respect your parents for their experience and your children for their curiosity.

No Son [. . .] Not a traitor to your country. Much worse. A traitor to your soul.

Not a few millions of parents strongly hope that their own children will step in by instantly becoming their own parents’ foster parents, if and when the parents reach their second childhood.

Not everyone knows what it is to have your father’s rival’s penis inches from your nose.

Nothing is off-limits to me, tiny human. You think the desire in your heart is buried, but I couldn't ignore it if I tried! It means this: you want me to peace out? Shut it all down? Fine! I'll go! But you'll never get your next wish. Your secret wish. [. .] A mother's love. A father you know. A world at peace. A sky of stars. This could be yours . . . or you could lose it forever. And I can go. Doesn't matter to me, you finite speck.

No, you become a man when you first decide to put away the things of childhood, the talk of childhood, and the thoughts of childhood. You decide because you cannot be treated as both a man and a boy. Because you are either one or the other, but you are not both . . .

Now, standing here, it is clear as day: more than anything else, you want to find words for what you feel and think and everything that is dark. And then this terrifying thought hits you: Yes, your father wrote poetry to find a language for his wounds. Yes, you in your own way have become your father

Now let's make Virginia Heffernan a man. Can you imagine the same kind of spittle-flecked rage directed at a busy working father who admits to feeding his kids Annie's Organic Mac & Cheese?

- Oh ! Franz, ce que tu peux être poule mouillée parois ! Tu n’as donc pas envie de participer à ce grand bouleversement qui se prépare, de sortir de ta cage, de prendre ton envol ? Rappelle-toi que tu es le fils d’un Aigle ! Où sont tes ailes ? - Je ne suis pas le fils d’un Aigle, mais d’un vautour, qui pendant vingt ans s’est nourri de cadavres. Du moins c’est ainsi qu’on me le présente ici.