Best 106 quotes in «families quotes» category

All families had started off in some mysterious waay: to repopulate the earth, or by accident, or by force, or out of boredom; and it's all a mystery what each will become.

Adora changed her color scheme from peach to yellow. She promised me she'd take me to the fabric store so I can make new coverings to match. This dollhouse is my fancy." She almost made it sound natural, my fancy. The words floated out of her mouth sweet and round like butterscotch, murmured with just a tilt of her head, but the phrase was definitely my mother's. Her little doll, learning to speak just like Adora. "Looks like you do a very good job with it," I said, and motioned a weak wave good-bye. "Thank you," she said. Her eyes focused on my room in the dollhouse. A small finger poked the bed. "I hope you enjoy your stay here," she murmured into the room, as if she were addressing a tiny Camille no one could see.

All over the world there were families deciding to care about each other and encourage one another along the paths God had given them.

....And let me tell you something about families they're overrated. They're a weakness. The leave you or get taken from you or they disappoint you. Families are a liability.

All the Kamals were fluent in irritation. They loved each other but were almost always annoyed by each other, in ways that were both generalised and existential (why is he like that?) and also highly specific (how hard is it to remember to put the top back on the yoghurt?).

Autism is not a death sentence but a rich fulfilled life sentence so to speak.

Being a bad parent is a sign of not having learned from experience.

Can we choose to disagree on something without fighting or hating each other , because of our difference.

Calling a nuclear group with a mom and a pop and their kids a family is like calling a field of bluestem a prairie. It's the rich diversity of grasses and forbs that makes a prairie work, just as it's the rich diversity of parents and children, grandparents and cousins, aunts and uncles providing nourishment and support that makes a family work.

Being divorced does not necessarily make one’s advice on marriage useless … or useful.

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

Constant criticism within families Erodes revered relationships Poison pierces through minds To blind your own judgment

Dad, why are you going to the hospital?" I wanted a straight answer. "I'm okay, Steven, I just have a rash that won't go away and a headache that feels like I got hit in the head with a baseball bat. But I'm fine. Nothing to worry about. You go do the movie." "Yeah, you go do the movie with Magnum and Cheers and Star Trek. We'll see you when you get done." My mother started vacuuming again.

Dance your Soulful path / and you shall know the magic / of your mind & heart / and all the beauty laughing / to fill your rising self.

Domestic violence is not just perpetrated by a husband or a partner. Families too are a party to it. To my mind, violation of basic human rights by anybody around us – a parent, a sibling or a relative – is domestic violence.

De serverte te, og der vi satt rundt spisebordet kjente jeg den vanlige forventningen fra barnefamilier; Er vi ikke søte, er vi ikke pene, misunner du oss ikke, du barnløse gamle kvinne.Er vi ikke flinke med barna våre.

Family will be there for you when you’re down on your luck or need a helping hand. Family will protect you from the cold or from the fears that haunt you. Material things are cold and have no soul.

Don't we—and our families, our children, and our loved ones—deserve our best selves?

Families are so beautiful. Wherever we may be, looking at kids and happy families make us feel like home.

Even in good families a bad apple can begin an avalanche of troubles,' Dutch said as he sat back in his well-seasoned armchair, lighting his curved rustic pipe. From Book I, In Blood There is No Honor

Family' is not just a biological word, it's an an operative one.

Families with children were turned away in as many as 7 in 10 housing searches.

Funny how you can forget that every family isn't like yours.

For while they'd stayed close during the absurd years of his sharp rise, having children had knocked it all into a different arrangement. The minute you had children you closed ranks. You didn't plan this in advance, but it happened. Families were like individual, discrete, moated island nations. The little group of citizens on the slab of rock gathered together instinctively, almost defensively, and everyone who was outside the walls--even if you'd once been best friends--was now just that, outsiders. Families had their ways. You took note of how other people raised their kids, even other people you loved, and it seemed all wrong. The culture and practices of one's own family were the only way, for better or worse. Who could say why a family decided to have a certain style, to tell the jokes it did, to put up its particular refrigerator magnets?

FORKED BRANCHES We grew up on the same street, You and me. We went to the same schools, Rode the same bus, Had the same friends, And even shared spaghetti With each other's families. And though our roots belong to The same tree, Our branches have grown In different directions. Our tree, Now resembles a thousand Other trees In a sea of a trillion Other trees With parallel destinies And similar dreams. You cannot envy the branch That grows bigger From the same seed, And you cannot Blame it on the sun's direction. But you still compare us, As if we're still those two Kids at the park Slurping down slushies and Eating ice cream. Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun (2010)

Getting through life without a lot of money, possessions, and/or friends is admirable, especially if it is by choice.

Guilt is a feeble emotion. It surrenders too easily

He wanted to argue like this forever. This was better than nothing. There was no exhausting his anger at his father, and every word, however well intentioned or intentionally barbed, was a pull at a scab on his bloody heart. It was too late for any of this. There could ultimately be no healing. Marty had terminal cancer, and so did the two men have a cancer between them. They were terminal together, as father and son. They remained, momentarily exhausted, but it was really only that quiet between lightning and thunder as sound lags behind speed. The lightning had cracked the ground already, you just hadn't heard it yet.

He said No to those Wild Things and so did I. Sometimes we said No and sometimes we shouted it and we were ferocious because it counted for everything.

Home is where your heart is.

All over now. He is either in joy or nothingness. (So why grieve? The worst of it, for him, is over.) Because I loved him so and am in the habit of loving him and that love must take the form of fussing and worry and doing.

I don’t know why everyone is still trying to find out whether heaven and hell exist. Why do we need more evidence? They exist here on this very Earth. Heaven is standing atop Mount Qasioun overlooking the Damascene sights with the wind carrying Qabbani’s dulcet words all around you. And hell is only four hours away in Aleppo where children’s cries drown out the explosions of mortar bombs until they lose their voice, their families, and their limbs. Yes, hell certainly does exist right now, at this moment, as I pen this poem. And all we’re doing to extinguish this hellfire is sighing, shrugging, liking, and sharing. Tell me: what exactly does that make us? Are we any better than the gatekeepers of hell?

I could tell he wanted the best for me. Of course, he assumed that would be getting out. Everyone always thought that, not of what we had to go back to, at home. Maybe our parents had thrown away our mattresses. Maybe they'd told our siblings we'd been run over by trains, to make our absence fonder. Not everyone had a parent. It could be that nothing was waiting for us. Our keys would no longer fit the locks. We'd resort to ringing the bell, saying we've come home, can't we come in? The eye in the peephole would show itself, and that eye could belong to a stranger, as our family had moved halfway across the country and never informed us. Or that eye could belong to the woman who carried us for nine months, who labored for fourteen hours, who was sliced open with a C-section to give us life, and now wished she never did. The juvenile correctional system could let us out into the world, but it could not control who would be out there, willing to claim us.

I don't like it,' said Pigott. 'This is a well-established neighborhood. These families go back generations.' 'Don't all families go back generations?

If we can’t repair things with the Romans—well, the two sets of demigods have never gotten along. That’s why the gods kept us separate. I don’t know if we could ever belong there.” Percy didn’t want to argue, but he couldn’t let go of the hope. It felt important—not just for him, but for all the other demigods. It had to be possible to belong in two different worlds at once. After all, that’s what being a demigod was all about—not quite belonging in the mortal world or on Mount Olympus, but trying to make peace with both sides of their nature.

If I could change one thing about our schools it would be to transform all schools into communities of care and project based experiential learning through play where the focus is less on results and more on the process. Instead of zero tolerance policies we would have tolerance policies where it is okay to make mistakes. Schools would be centered on taking care of ourselves, each other and our environment driven by care not data. I believe all children have the right to love and freedom to explore not restrained.

I love messy homes, homes where a woman and kids have left their mark on every inch: sticky finger marks down the walls, trinkets and nests of pastel hair-gadgets on the mantelpiece, that smell of flowery things and ironing.

I know I could’ve been on the other side of the line too. I refuse to accept injustice and inequality because I know it can be against any one of us, our brothers and sisters and friends and family. I know it’s personal. I know this is our only chance, our only planet, our only shot. And, I know this is my brick.

În casa aceasta ,zeița noastră a orezului este bunica ta!Ea este păstrătoarea visurilor !Uită-te cu atenție și ai s-o vezi cum stă pe tronul ei de lemn ,ținându-ne toate speranțele si visurile ,mari și mici,ale tale și ale mele ,în brațele ei puternice .Anii nu-i scad puterea !

In some ways, no one is tougher on one another than sisters. Like parents, they're hyperaware of another's past foibles and faults; but, without the infinite parental capacity for love and forgiveness, they judge one another far more harshly for them. I swear there are times when they really might kill one another. Until, of course, one of them is in trouble or threatened by an outside agent, in which case they band together into an unbreakable front. Internally fractured yet externally united. The world over, it's the very definition of sisterhood.

It is as if families on the run are shattered by something other than just grenades. The flight and fear tears us apart and those parts land in all kinds of places - we don't even know where. But we always try to find them afterwards.

In “THE SNOWFLAKE LIKE NO OTHER” the rainbow snowflake, DAZZLER reveals the uniqueness of every living thing.

In view of the frequent occurrence of modern domestic groups that do not consist of, or contain, an exclusive pair-bonded father and mother, I cannot see why anyone should insist that our ancestors were reared in monogamous nuclear families and that pair-bonding is more natural than other arrangements.

In united families, they might sleep with half filled stomach but no one sleeps with empty stomach.

In your name, the family name is at last because it's the family name that lasts.

I think people need to recognize that those of us who have been so much influenced by violence in the media- in particular pornographic violence- are not some kinds of inherent monsters. We are your sons, and we are your husbands. And we grew up in regular families.

Logically, I understand that it wasn't Edward's fault my family fell apart after he left. But when you're eleven years old, you don't give a flip about logic. You just really miss holding your big brother's hand.

I traded in my freedom for a needy, whiny and defiant four-year-old, a junky girlfriend, and a relationship riddled with someone else’s problems Now, I stare out of open windows like a wild mustang craving open fields I clench my crotch, where my balls used to be, and I hum a loathsome tune, like an out- of-work castrato who’s realized his dreams of someday having his own family are gone

It was hard not to realize what kind of kid his parents wished they'd had, and when he thought about that kind of kid it was tempting for Paul to want to track, hunt, and eat the little thing.

I wish I'd gotten to know my dad better too," Kent nodded, "because when I did know him, he already wasn't himself. But the thing is, I never blamed him." "Why's that?" "I suppose because trying to place blame on someone always seemed like an impossible task. Like trying to find the start of something that's actually an endless cycle. I just figured it was better to be hard on myself and to make sure that I was a better person to those I loved. That way I could break the cycle." Did you hear that, Dad? That's the kind of wisdom older brothers are put on this earth to dispense.